Story 2: In the Company of Wolves
by LenoraLana
Summary: Sequel of "Specters of the Past", also posted on A03. It is Sarah's turn to face something from her past as she travels with David Banner, something which may affect her in the present as well as the future...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I would like to thank MissBrooklyn80 of A03 once again for all her help in cooking up a plot for this story, and for proof-reading this chapter. :) I would also like to thank BlackAngel001 for helping me come up with a few ideas that will take place down the road in future chapters. Thank you both, I couldn't have done it without you!_

David had known ever since they left the Hendells' farm and place of residence that Sarah wasn't happy.

Sarah wasn't just unhappy, she had become somewhat withdrawn and non-responsive, apart from the slightest interaction required, or when David himself attempted to initiate a conversation.

During the first day of traveling together, David had slipped into his regular mode of moving toward anything that might be ahead, prepared for anything… including a new, future integration if he happened to find work and a place to stay.

For Sarah, on the other hand, it was still a new way of life. She had gotten somewhat used to doing things her own way, within reason, at the place where she and Tasha had stayed with a forest nearby. Now, she no longer had the security of a house to come back to or the local woods to hunt or just lose herself.

At the end of the first day, they ended up stopping to rest in the middle of nowhere, having failed to hitch a ride. Thankfully there was a fairly clean stream nearby, from which Sarah used the lightning reflexes of her wolf-side to paw a couple of fish out of the water for David's benefit.

For drinking purposes, David boiled some of the water with a kettle left behind from a nearby, recently abandoned campsite. He then cooked the fish in its own oils, somewhat disapproving of the way Sarah had gone off to snag a rogue steer she had detected nearby, though he didn't say a word.

He was concerned for multiple reasons. What if someone came looking for that steer? Was it really a good idea to permit Sarah to take on wolf form and partake in such… feral behavior? She needed to eat, and she could probably use the extra meat to complete a full recovery and finish replenishing her energy after her recent ordeal. What concerned him, though, was the chances of her getting spotted while in that form. And the fact that being in wolf form increased her appetite, according to the research and test papers he had memorized before burning.

In the end, Sarah had returned after she finished her grisly meal-out of sight, for his benefit and her own, since she didn't want to ruin his appetite. She was still self-conscious about him seeing her do some wolfy things.

Sarah ignored him at first as she cleaned her teeth, face, and front paws in the stream. After the worst of the blood was gone from her fur, she took a good long drink from the stream.

A little later, after the sun had set, David tried to coax her into changing back into human form. "Sarah, I still have your clothes right here," he said, presenting them to her in a reasonably neat pile. "It would attract less notice if you changed back."

The only response he got was a grunt followed by a snort. Sarah remained curled up in a heap on the ground and otherwise ignored him, even if she did peer at him through half-opened eyes. Uncertain how to read that, David soon gave up on the matter, figuring they were remote enough for now. He couldn't talk to her if she wasn't going to change into a form where they could converse.

If she wanted to stay in wolf form for now… fine. He would save his breath for when she had the right set of vocal cords.

It had occurred to him later that night that… maybe she was using her wolf form as an excuse to avoid talking to him? She had already proven she could be stubborn, and she had some immature qualities. But… for tonight, at least, he would leave her alone.

After a time, he actually ended up surprising himself by sleeping right next to her when the night got unexpectedly cold, with a chilling breeze to boot. She had apparently inched closer to him when her sensitive ears detected him shivering a bit under a fresh blast of wind.

At first, it had spooked the hell out of him, and he began to scoot away, but something in her eyes stopped him. Sarah looked far less like a vicious monster who had recently slaughtered and devoured a large hoofed animal, and more like a fragile puppy who felt stung by the apparent rejection.

David immediately chided himself, then permitted her to get close again. They slept back-to-back, though her fur and body heat did help him stay warm, and her bulk even helped shelter him a little from the wind. He was grateful for that, along with the fact that she kept her snout pointed well away from him, though he seemed to be in little danger of being bitten or clawed anyway.

When morning came, David awoke to find himself lying on the ground with his head resting against his own folded arms… and he bolted upright when he realized the furry, heat-radiating "teddy bear" he had fallen asleep next to was gone.

To his surprise, he found that Sarah was not only back in human form and fully dressed, but the scent of fish cooking revealed that she had caught and started cooking breakfast. Fresh fish, the same kind she had slapped onto the shore for him the previous night. Perhaps she had been camping at some point in her life, or she had gleaned something from observing him.

When it was finished cooking, she handed it to him on a plate. "Aren't you going to have some?" David asked after accepting it. Her only response was to shake her head slightly and plop herself on the ground a few yards away from him, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"Aren't you hungry?" David pressed. "Or are you planning to go hunt?"

She never did respond. Maybe the huge meal she had gorged herself on the previous night was enough. Esben's notes had said that sometimes werewolves did show a tendency toward a 'feast or famine' way of doing things… if they gorged themselves too much, it might be two or three days before they would eat again.

David could only sigh inwardly at her lack of response, then simply ate the food with some freshly boiled water from the stream once it cooled. After all, there was no telling when the next meal would be or where, and… it was clear that she was trying at least, even if she wouldn't talk to him.

Maybe she just needed more time.

After David finished eating and put out the fire, they began their second day together… which mostly consisted of a lot more hiking and a lot more silent treatment from Sarah.

At the end of the day, they did manage to come across a convenience store in which David bought a few sandwiches and two large cans of soda. Sarah waited outside the entire time, refusing to enter the store with him and shaking her head when he offered her one of the drinks and a sandwich.

They were soon seated in the middle of a nearby park at a picnic table on wooden benches. David figured that, if worse came to worse, perhaps they could sleep here if a park ranger or policeman didn't tell them to go. He had slept in worse places, and Sarah had already proven she could sleep pretty much anywhere… though he wasn't sure how sleeping on a wooden surface or the ground would affect her without the benefit of her furry hide.

"Are you sure you don't want a sandwich?" He motioned to the food on the table even as he ate one.

Sarah had barely even looked in his direction ever since they sat down, seeming unfazed and uninterested in the food or even his presence. Though that had been the general theme for the entire day.

David had finally had enough. "Look, Sarah. I know that this isn't easy for you, and I'm trying to give you some leeway to adjust if you need it. But you can't keep ignoring me or going on like this."

She looked at him fully now. "I'm not trying to ignore you."

"Then why haven't you said anything to me since we left the Hendells' place?"

"I… don't know." She shrugged and sighed, leaning forward a little after placing her elbows on the table and knitting her hands together.

David held his tongue but kept his inquisitive gaze on her. He'd observed her body language and emotional tendencies that learned that sometimes, Sarah was a person who needed time to form words before she could articulate. Sarah didn't respond well to pressure and, while she didn't like being confronted, she would respond better if given a chance to take her time.

Besides…whatever Sarah had endured at the hands of Esben and his staff was still taking a toll on her and making it difficult for her to be forthright. That was one of the reasons David had invited her to tag along for now. He wanted to help her adapt and learn how to function in her current state within society and stand on her own. This was part of that process. If there was some residual trauma or a similar issue that kept her walled up in a shell, he needed to gently draw her out of it, as long as she would let him.

Sarah couldn't exactly go to a counselor at a hospital. That area of his own education had to be good for something, at least...

Finally, she said, "I'm trying to figure out how to proceed from here. I don't know what I was thinking back when I was staying with Tasha. I guess I just believed I could go on like that forever, just doing my own thing and ignoring everything."

She looked David directly in the eye again. "You know something? When I was living on my family's farm, everyone always told me that we'd always have that, even if my brother and I had nothing else. If we each got married, we'd be welcome to raise our families there and help expand the farm. I guess… I was planning to let my brother be in charge, especially being a year older, and I'd just do whatever I needed to do.

"Then we had a few rough spells where our animals got sick, we lost several crops due to drought and some kind of blight… then everything got worse when a hurricane destroyed our barn. It cost a lot to build a new one, even if our neighbors helped with our barn-raising."

Sarah sighed again. "I mean, when I was a kid, everything was great, and I always assumed I'd have security there, especially since my parents and grandparents said so. Now my parents are gone, the farm is gone, and my only surviving grandparent, my Grandmother, is in a nursing home. My brother is who-knows-where because he ran off to and I…" She trailed off.

"So," David gently concluded for her, "you felt that with Tasha, you would have the safety and security you thought you'd have on your family farm."

"Yeah… and it turned out Tasha was just a great big phony. I thought I had found a… solid foundation after what happened to my parents and the farm. But everything everybody says is a big fat lie."

"Sometimes," David said knowingly, "life does take unexpected turns. Things happen that you can't predict or control. But you can't always expect other people or magical circumstances to do everything for you, sometimes what happens depends on you and the choices you make."

"Yes, I know," Sarah snapped. "I'm stuck as a werewolf now without any plans or hope for a future." She stood and turned away, folding her arms.

David rose and moved to follow, but found she didn't go far. Only about four steps away. "Yes, you are 'stuck' with this condition, just as I am with mine. But you have already shown you have the capacity to deal with this, Sarah. There may even be a cure out there somewhere."

She whirled on him now, causing him to start slightly. Still, there was nothing aggressive or feral in her movements or facial expression. She was just irritated and flustered by the entire situation and trying to work through it. "Then where the hell is it, David?" she demanded. "Come on, you've told me about how you've been trying for years to cure your own. And you've got the brain and knowledge for it!"

"Yes, but we also know that the werewolf condition originated somewhere in Europe. If we can find out more about that, we might be able to find that cure. In the meantime," David said, "We need to make sure you can function and know how to survive like this until a cure is found. If you don't, you may draw unwanted attention to yourself or end up being held and studied in a place that is just as bad, if not worse, as Dr. Hansen's lab."

Sarah was stone silent and looking a tad green around the gills at the prospect. Her eyes darted back and forth, then back on him, widening slightly.

"I'm not trying to frighten you." David tried to comfort her with a gentle squeeze on her arm. "But believe me when I say I know what could happen if you're not careful. I have to deal with those fears every day."

"Yeah, so I have to be extra careful until I can get a cure," Sarah gulped. "And I can't just go to Europe. I wouldn't know where to start, or… anything."

"That's why you will need to do research, Sarah. Start by going to libraries and looking up any werewolf legends you can find. Then begin studying anything related to those legends, medical, or scientific theories, that might be helpful."

"You're not gonna help me find out where to go?" Sarah asked, almost timidly.

David suppressed a sigh. "I might be able to help you get started, but I'm not sure how much I will be able to do, or for how long. Sarah," he gently took both of her arms when she looked like she might move away, "I promised I would help you adjust and learn to function on your own, and I will do just that. If I'm able, I could help you find the information available that may lead to a cure, but I may not be able to help you for more than a few weeks at most."

In truth, David had considered trying to go back to Esben's secret lab to see if anything useful might be there. He highly doubted it would be worth the risk, though, plus it was highly unlikely that Esben had documents just lying around that would pertain to a cure. He had decided against it very readily.

"Yeah, I know. Just like my family farm, just like whatever sheltering I had with Tasha… I won't have you around forever, either." Sarah tore his hands off of her. "Look," her face softened apologetically even as she took a step back, "I get it, okay? I gotta learn to rely on myself and take care of myself because nobody else can forever. I get it. Just…" She trailed off.

"You don't like it."

"No."

"You need to learn to do things you don't like doing eventually, Sarah." David folded his arms, looking thoughtful. "Weren't there a lot of things on the farm you didn't like doing?"

"I guess, but I had my routine."

"You can learn a new routine. It gets easier with time."

"So, where are we going exactly, David?"

"Right now, I thought we could spend the night here." David glanced indicatively at the sky; the sun had already set.

"But after tonight?"

"We continue going north."

"So this is supposed to be my plan, David? Follow you like a puppy, learn how to deal with my issues, and go chasing after monster legends until maybe I find a cure?"

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. There wasn't anything further that David could suggest. He knew how unpleasant it could be to have a cold bucket of reality dumped on you when you were used to thinking or doing things a certain way. Sarah, unfortunately, seemed like the type who preferred to flow along and hope that someone else would take care of everything for her. Or that she could ignore her problems if she could enter a secure enough comfort zone.

David could not offer her a secure comfort zone like her family had, or like Tasha had for a period of time. He also would not give her phony promises or lure her into a wrong decision like Esben had.

Perhaps on some level, Sarah resented him for making her consistently face reality and try to find a better way for herself and a method to fix her problems. He could tell she did. But he was giving her what she needed, not what she wanted, and he also sensed that she knew that on a deeper level. Otherwise, she would have been growling a lot more or possibly stormed off by now.

Sarah would just need to learn to accept this, whether she liked it or not. Evidently, she wasn't ready to do that yet… or just didn't want to. It was a tough aspect of reality to accept, especially for someone who was apparently used to having decisions made for her and things prepared for her on her behalf.

"There are still a couple of sandwiches left. You might feel better if you eat something," David finally suggested.

He was mildly surprised she accepted his offer this time. Though it seemed more a way to have something to do with her hands and possibly focus on rather than being genuinely interested in food.

David sat with her wordlessly at their picnic table as she polished off the rest of the food and the can of soda he hadn't touched in case she changed her mind. There were some things that you just couldn't rush; he understood that. A broken leg wouldn't mend any faster with a lot of words or additional attention. And it sometimes took a person time to emotionally adjust, and heal from the sting of reality, and recent, unfortunate ordeals.

There would, hopefully, be time for everything. Time for her to deal with the news of her mother's death. Time for her to learn survival and get by in the world without being seen or getting captured. Time to start her off on the right path to finding a cure for herself and to stay blended in a crowd until she found it.

"David?"

His eyes snapped to her when her soft tone broke him out of his thoughts. "Hmm?"

"I want to see it one more time."

"See what?"

Sarah turned away, almost nervously, licking her lips. "I just want to see my family's farm one more time."

David frowned. "Do you know the people who own it now?"

"No, I'm not even sure who my parents sold it to."

"We can't just go there when it belongs to someone else, Sarah."

"I know. I don't want to stay there, and I don't want to do anything to get seen, or… whatever. David, I just feel like I need to see it one last time. Just one quick look, even from a distance. I know it won't be the same as I left it, and nobody I know will be there. I just feel like… I need this to help solidify reality and maybe move on from there."

David nodded slowly. He could understand that some individuals might need more visual and tangible stimuli to help process and accept some things… especially since, in her own way, Sarah seemed to get lost with her head in the clouds.

Perhaps Sarah was used to delving into a daydreamy version of reality she preferred. This mental phenomenon could have been enhanced within her if she needed an "escape" from whatever was done to her during Esben's torturous experiments.

David made a mental note to give her a more in-depth psychological analysis later.

He finally said, "Alright, I suppose we could go for a quick look, but we won't get too close."

David smiled slightly when he sensed her brighten. "We can head there tomorrow morning. Ah, where is the farm located?"


	2. Chapter 2

It ended up taking two days to get from their current location to the property that was once owned by Sarah's family. It was a fairly sizeable area of land on the southern end of Utah.

One thing that continued to amaze David while they traveled was how little the heat affected his mutant companion. Despite having a steady temperature of just over one hundred and seven, she never perspired even though he was close to sweating bullets. Apparently, this was an awful time of year to be out hiking… particularly since they didn't have much in the way of water.

Thankfully, they finally did get picked up by a very friendly hitchhiker who even offered them ice water from a cooler he had in the back. David was so parched by this point that he drank greedily, so much that he felt bad enough to offer their courteous driver what little cash he had left in compensation. The driver politely refused.

Sarah drank little water but otherwise seemed uninterested in anything the driver had to offer or in their company. Even though David glanced at her periodically and occasionally tried to include her in on the conversation, Sarah and her petite form somehow seemed to give off… an aura? A vibe? The more the two men chatted about this and that, the more Sarah became invisible, especially as she simply stared out the window on her side in complete silence.

David could tell that the driver was in no way trying to be rude; there was just something about Sarah's quiet side that made it easy to nearly forget she was even there. She didn't seem to mind anyone talking around her, nor did she make a peep. She might as well have been a second duffle bag David had in the back seat.

In the end, David ended up quiet as the driver continued to chatter about this and that in a friendly, boisterous manner. At the same time, Sarah looked like she might have been napping lightly. David wasn't sure if this level of quiet was a good thing or a bad thing, though he took it as a good sign that she was comfortable enough to rest at least.

The pair was finally dropped off at the start of a long, winding road that would lead uphill and directly to the farm.

"Thanks for the ride, we really appreciate it," David smiled at the driver as he closed the door. "Sarah, aren't you gonna thank Paul?"

Sarah blinked, as though it hadn't occurred to her to say anything, though she apparently decided that she didn't want to be rude. "Thank you," she blurted, then resumed staring up the road.

The driver merely laughed. "Looks like your young lady friend is eager to get moving."

"That she is. But thank you again, Paul. We both appreciate it." David shook the man's hand through the open window on the driver's side.

"I best be gettin' along anyway. You folks take care, I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for when ya get there." With that, Paul waved at them both as he drove away.

"Hey, Sarah," David hurriedly slung his duffle bag over his shoulder as he jogged to catch up to her. "Don't get too far ahead now."

She glanced over her shoulder at him and slowed her pace a tad, but she was still quite anxious to get to the top of the hill. It felt so familiar to walk along this path, almost like she had never been away. Part of her still refused to accept reality. The farm wasn't hers anymore, and she wouldn't reach the top and find her family or anything too familiar from her childhood.

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks when she reached the top of the hill, encountering a high fence that came up to her shoulders. Every five feet, there were metal fence posts with barbed wire in between each one.

The property was also clearly marked:

Private Property

No Trespassing

Violators Will Be Prosecuted

Sarah's eyes remained glued to that sign for a few seconds that, to her, felt like an eternity. It took her a moment to realize that David was trying to get her attention.

She pointed at the sign for emphasis before speaking. "I guess I needed to see that, David. It…" She swallowed, hating the way her emotions made her voice crack. "I can't deny reality anymore. This tells me that this isn't home anymore, and I'm not welcome here anymore."

Her eyes finally snapped away from the sign to look at David when she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. She slowly reached up and gave his hand a grateful pat, then she sort of shrugged away from his touch. "I don't think anyone is out here right now. Could I just have a moment alone to say goodbye, please? I'm just gonna sit right here, I won't go anywhere or do anything," she promised, showing she meant it by sitting on the ground just underneath the large, ominous sign.

David looked at her for a long moment. There was nothing in her body language that suggested she'd do anything else, and only a fool would try to climb over or under that prickly fence unless absolutely necessary. He could tell she wanted to say goodbye and maybe have a little cry in private.

He looked around briefly, not seeing anyone nearby. "Alright," he nodded, "I'll leave you alone here for a couple of minutes, but then we will have to leave."

"Okay."

After David moved a respectable distance away, Sarah let herself go a little. A gush of emotion cut loose in the form of quiet sobs and a steady flow of tears, releasing a lot of things she had been pent up. There were just some things that had to be dealt with privately, at the right place and the right time.

Sarah cried over the pain and humiliation she endured at the hands of Esben. The hurt and confusion over realizing that Tasha had ulterior motives and that there was more to David than met the eye. Learning of her mother's death, the harsh realities of enduring life as a werewolf, and the search for a cure.

Part of her knew she had already permitted herself to succumb to self-pity. She also knew it wouldn't get her anywhere in the long run. For now, though… she just couldn't see any light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

What had she been hoping to gain here, anyway? Some kind of closure and acceptance of the present reality, she supposed… though it did nothing to make her feel better. Staring at the giant sign just above where she sat on the grass just made the sting of present circumstances more painful.

She reached out and touched the barb wire fence, deliberately allowing the sharp points to break her skin. She then pulled away, watching the small trickle of blood turn her fingers crimson even as the skin sealed itself up like magic. A tiny injury was quickly healed by her metabolism without the need for extra food, even though the blood remained.

_You're not welcome here, freak,_ a voice inside her mind taunted her as a fresh set of tears streamed down her cheeks. _You'll never be welcome anywhere until you're cured._

"What the hell are you doing?"

Sarah's head snapped up. She had been so focused on her own thoughts and emotions she hadn't noticed someone approach the fence from the other side, not even with her sensitive nose or ears. "I-I'm sorry," she was instantly on her feet. "I'll go." She felt like an utter fool, being seen by some stranger like this. She certainly didn't want to draw attention to herself.

"Wait."

Sarah hesitated, already half-turned toward the road to go, but slowly turned back now. She met the eyes of the man who had addressed her, even as her sensitive ears could detect David's footfalls as her friend hurried toward her.

"She didn't mean any harm," she heard David saying as he came near, though she remained frozen in place. "She used to live here, and she just wanted to see it one more time. We'll be going now."

"Sarah?"

David looked a little shocked as he glanced sharply between Sarah and the young man on the other side of the fence.

The stranger hurriedly opened the gate and stepped a little closer, narrowing his eyes. "Sarah? Is that really you?"

Sarah finally found her voice, even if it was little more than a squeak. "J-James?" She licked her lips. "Jimmy?"

In the next instant, Sarah and James found themselves in a tight, familial embrace, each uttering sounds that were a mix of happy reunion and wistful regret. They pulled apart after a moment, regarding one-another with uncertainty. They were relieved to see each other, but they hadn't parted on good terms… and some things still hung between them.

"Um, David, this is my brother, James." Sarah then motioned at David. "James, this is my friend, David Ban-"

"I'm David Baxton." David shot Sarah a brief look.

Sarah looked at him sharply, her jaw dropped at the mistake she'd almost made. "Y-yes, David Baxton," she quickly recovered, shooting David an apologetic look full of regret and sheepishness. He caught it, his own expression softening with a slight nod.

"Is something wrong?" James asked, noting her odd behavior, but then he became focused on another matter. "Are you sick, Sarah? You felt hot." He moved to touch her forehead, though she balked at his touch and pushed his hand away.

"I'm fine," she said a bit stiffly.

David said, "Sarah has been recovering from the flu these past few days."

"I'm okay," Sarah repeated when James touched her hand. "It's just… leftover fever." She cleared her throat. "So what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to change the subject and out of genuine curiosity. "Mom and Dad sold this place years ago, so unless you got a windfall and bought it back-"

"No," James said, "but the people who own it now are letting me stay and work here in exchange for free room and board. I'm a caretaker for the property and the pigs."

"Pigs?"

"Yeah, it's mostly just a huge pig farm now. Lots of hogs of different colors, shapes, and sizes. But they make good money," James said.

"No more crops or chickens or… anything?"

"Nope."

"Pigs…" Sarah seemed to be trying to process that piece of information. They never would have had pigs on the farm when her family had owned it.

"Look," James motioned toward the gate, "the people who own it now don't seem to mind if I have visitors sometimes… maybe you both could stay here for a couple of days. You could even stay in your old room, Sarah… it's got all new furniture, and all of your stuff is gone, but it's still the same room. David, you could say in our parents' old room if you want."

"Alright, thank you," David inclined his head, willing to go along with this for now.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were seated in the living room with iced water, and some quickly reheated leftovers from James' dinner the previous night.

It was a cheesy casserole that definitely had a lot of pork in it.

"Do they let you have some of the… the meat here?" Sarah asked as she slowly ate it.

This was the first time David had seen her eat in a more… refined way, gently picking up small bits almost daintily with her fork instead of… wolfing it down. He could guess why; she was trying to act normal in front of her brother.

"Yeah, sometimes." James didn't seem inclined to say any more on the subject.

Over the next half-hour or so, the entire conversation all around was cagey, even if it seemed everyone was trying to be sociable at least.

David said very little about his life. He was more interested in asking James about himself and made a few remarks about how nicely furnished, well-supplied, and maintained the house seemed to be.

Sarah was somewhat cagey in her own way, though she was a tad more talkative than when she was around strangers or even David. David diplomatically interjected or supplied a tactful redirection in the conversation if it seemed she might accidentally blurt out something she shouldn't… possibly about him, or even herself.

In turn, James himself didn't say that much either. He went on at one point about how great the people who owned the farm property and house were, and how they had invested in a fair number of farms across the state and couldn't take care of them all by themselves.

James didn't say much more about the landowners or how he came to live on the farm again. He only spoke about the house or what his daily routine was like on the farm.

By the time they all finished eating (David having only one portion, James having seconds, and Sarah indulging in three servings,) the atmosphere felt somewhat relaxed yet awkward. It was almost like three strangers sitting at the table, with no-one having the ability to let down their guard or talk about much of anything freely.

David readily agreed to clear the table and wash the dishes when asked, then James excused himself and took Sarah outside to speak to her in private.

James made it a point to go all the way out to the nearest pigpen, as though wanting to make sure there was no way David could eavesdrop. "So what's really going on, Sarah?"

"What do you mean?" Sarah eyed the large hogs moving about in the pen, glad that she had just eaten something. The scent of the pigs was enough to get the wolf inside of her excited... not to mention her close proximity to them in a convenient, confined space.

"Something's been 'off' ever since you showed up at the front gate. Come on, Sis, you've been acting so weird all day." James folded his arms. "Are you still mad at me for running away after the car accident?"

"Maybe a little." Sarah folded her arms too.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Look," James dropped his hands and shoved them into his pockets, staring at his feet as he spoke. "I just couldn't stay. I needed to get away from everything. I did come back and try to find you after a few days, but you were gone, and it's not like you left a way for me to find you, either."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't left in the first place…" Sarah trailed off.

James sighed. "Do you really want to stand here and debate the past? Can't we just move on from here?"

Sarah turned away, leaning with one arm across the pigpen as she watched the animals move to and fro. "There's something odd about this spot," she said after sniffing the air a few times.

"Huh? What do you mean, Sarah?"

Sarah clamped her mouth shut and pressed her lips into a thin line, staring at him with an odd expression. It seemed there was something she'd wanted to say, but… she didn't dare.

"Sarah, what is it?" James looked and sounded perplexed, but also a bit agitated and nervous.

She shook her head and waved a hand through the air as if to erase the words that had just been said… along with whatever it was, she had sensed that she didn't want to state aloud. "Who are the other people that have been inside the house?" she said instead.

James looked floored but quickly recovered. "What are you talking about? There's been nobody else there."

"Yes, there has."

"What in the hell makes you say that? You've only been here for an hour. You don't know what goes on."

"I smelled-" Sarah stopped herself. "I just know that there have been at least three other people inside that house recently."

"This isn't any of your business," James snapped, "but I sometimes have company over. Sometimes the owners come by to see how things are going, too. Remember, our family doesn't own this place anymore, Sarah."

"Then why…" Sarah trailed off, once again clamping her mouth shut.

"Why what?" James sounded very agitated now.

"...Nevermind."

James sighed. "Look, I have everything under control here. You don't need to worry about it. But I would still like to talk about you and this David guy you showed with here."

Sarah tensed, her shoulders going rigid… almost arching.

Narrowing his eyes, James said, "You haven't said anything about where you have been all this time. Where did you go after the car accident? What have you been doing?"

"I already told you."

"You haven't said much of anything, Sarah. Just that you've been out and around and now, apparently, you're traveling with David."

"Well, you haven't really told me anything, either."

"There's just something weird about you now, Sarah. Something I can't figure out yet." James grabbed her wrist, then placed his hand across her cheek and temple before she could stop him. "You haven't felt this warm since you were ten and had a nasty fever. You had to spend a few days in the hospital, and I swear you feel even warmer now than you did then."

Sarah wrenched her wrist out of his hand and brushed his hand away from her face. "It's just the remnants of the flu. That's all."

James shook his head. "I don't buy that. It's just something about the way you look."

"What do I look like, exactly?" Sarah's voice had raised an octave.

For a moment, James seemed to struggle to find the words, as though he was trying to figure out what seemed off after not seeing his sister for some time. "You're way too skinny for one," he finally said. "I mean, just look at you!" He gestured at her slender form with both hands, as though sizing her up. "Your appetite seemed hardy enough back in the house, but you look like skin and bones with barely anything in-between! Have you been eating enough?"

"I eat plenty… more than you know."

"And what is with your eyes?"

Sarah suddenly looked much more self-conscious than she did already. "My eyes?"

"They've always been sort of a milk-chocolate brown, just like mine, remember?" He pointed at his own eye. "I know that because everybody, especially Grandma, always said we had identical eyes. She always liked to say our eyes were her 'sweet, milk chocolate Hershey drops.' Now it's like they're sorta…" He peered closer at her unblinking face, trying to identify what he saw there. "I think they're lighter… more like hazel, with specks of… gold."

Sarah turned away from him and took a couple of steps back.

"And you just don't seem like the same Sarah I used to know," James went on. "I mean, I know it's really you. But you're just not the same."

"You don't seem the same either, James," she shot right back. "You don't really look much different, except… I think you've filled out a bit more, and you have more muscle, but you have been treating me like a stranger and keeping me at arm's length."

"Oh… that's because David's here. I'm not comfortable being open about my private affairs when there's a stranger present."

"Well, David isn't here right now. So why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"There isn't anything going on. I'm serving as a caretaker because I don't have anything else, and I feel at home here." James folded his arms. "I just want to be here."

They spent the next five minutes going in verbal circles. James still persisted that there was something weird about her and tried to press for more information about her health and what she had been doing or where she had gone in recent months, but she kept silent.

James, in turn, wouldn't say anything other than he was apparently working for very awesome people who let him stay in exchange for merely taking care of the pigs and doing some maintenance work around the property.

Both of them ended up getting more frustrated until they shouted angrily at each other. James finally stormed off, saying he had things he needed to do around the property. Sarah went back into the house and slammed the front door behind her.

"What happened?"

Sarah's head snapped up when she realized she had been stewing for a full minute with her back pressed against the door.

"You alright?" David prompted again.

It took Sarah a moment to find her voice enough to articulate. She had a dozen different thoughts swarming through her mind and didn't know where to begin. There were also things she wasn't ready to mention to him yet…

Was she wrong about what her nose had detected in the pigpen? She had to be.

She decided to leave that alone for now. Instead, she opened up about a different thought that bothered her just as much. "David, he said that there were some things that were 'weird' about me." She gave him the run-down of what James said.

David regarded her knowingly as she spoke. Her unusually high temperature was normal for her, but it was the one thing that people would tend to notice as 'off' immediately if anyone touched her. He made a mental note to try and help her find a way to remedy that in the future. Perhaps she could get into the habit of wearing long sleeves and stylish gloves or something, at least in settings where she would need to interact a lot with people.

After all, human contact was a necessity. Shaking hands, for one thing. But they would deal with that at a later point in time.

"James is your brother, so he was bound to notice some differences in you now," David said slowly. "Where is he?"

"I think he went to fix a fence or something." Sarah didn't want to delve into anything else yet… she just wanted to think, maybe calm her emotions a bit more. "I just want to go to my old room for a while, okay?"

"Okay," David acknowledged, "but just remember," he held up a finger, stopping her before she could just walk away, "you can't keep yourself holed up in there forever. Take whatever time you need, but you will have to come out again soon to face whatever is going on."

Sarah drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah, I know."

With a nod, David let her go. He watched her disappear into her old room, frowning slightly.

Something was clearly going on around here. Something that made Sarah's brother seem 'off' himself.


	3. Chapter 3

To her credit, Sarah only stayed in her old room for about twenty minutes. Part of that, though, as she soon admitted afterward, might have had to do with the fact that it didn't feel like her old childhood hideaway anymore, and it made her feel awkward. The twin-sized bed was the only thing that remained, everything else was gone or had been replaced with something new to accommodate an occasional guest but nothing more.

"Did you have any personal belongings you hoped to find in there?" David asked as the two of them sat across from each other on separate couches in the small living room, with a coffee table between them.

"Not really, I guess," Sarah shrugged. "My family did as much house-cleaning as we could right before my parents sold this place. We moved into an apartment in the city for a while… until the accident happened."

"That's when your brother disappeared, and you-"

"When I went with Esben, yes." Sarah averted her gaze.

David steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "Now, James has found his way back here."

"Same with me, apparently… though I never expected any of this." Sarah leaned back on the couch and looked around the room. "It doesn't even seem like the same place anymore. My bed and that couch," she pointed at the one David was seated upon, "are about the only things I recognize so far as being the same. And this place feels so barren compared to what I remember, and so much smaller."

"Everything tends to seem a lot bigger when we're children," David pointed out with a small smile.

"Yeah, then you grow up and find out that everything changes, and you're not safe from anything." Sarah glanced around the room one more time, appearing wistful. "You can even have something that meant everything to you taken from you and turned into something you barely recognize anymore."

"You felt safe here?"

"Yeah… I always felt safe here. Like I said before, my parents promised it would always be mine, and I could always stay here." Sarah sighed. "I feel like there's still this little kid inside of me. My parents promised me one thing when I was small, then turned around and handed off everything they said we'd always keep. The grownup version of me does understand the logic of it; we were broke, my parents even went into debt trying to save it, but it just didn't work anymore, and they had to get jobs just to give us a place to stay and keep us together."

"It sounds like you had a pretty tight-knit family," David mused. "You valued staying together."

"Yeah… I dunno," Sarah shrugged and looked at him thoughtfully. "Maybe we would have fractured eventually anyway, one way or another. It almost seems like my parents… well, they taught James and me a lot of stuff, and we had our routine on the farm. But it's also kinda like… they wanted us to be babies forever and hand us everything on a silver platter. They also kept saying that God would always take care of everything and keep our farm and us going."

"It sounds like they wanted the best for both of you and cared about you and James very much," David observed aloud, "though it… sounds like they didn't prepare either of you enough for the outside world, should the need arise for you both to make it on your own."

"I feel like I really didn't know my own family as well as I thought," Sarah said. "Maybe they really didn't know me either. Maybe… I didn't even get a chance to know myself."

"Everyone goes through changes as they get older."

"Not everyone becomes a wolf or a big green creature, David."

David grunted assent.

"I still feel like there's something James won't tell me. He doesn't seem to want to talk about why he came here or what he did after the car accident."

"It could be that he's not comfortable discussing it, or maybe he's dealing with the grief in his own way," David suggested, trying to be fair and give the young man the benefit of the doubt. He tried to keep the nagging gut feeling that something seemed 'off' about her brother's behavior for now. After all, what did he really know? What proof did he have?

"I don't know. All I know is that everything was pretty straightforward and simple when we were young. Nobody kept secrets, but I think that was because our parents oversaw everything and there were no secrets to be had. Now my parents are gone and my brother is… someone different. He's not just the good boy who always did his chores and did whatever our parents asked."

"Does it bother you that you can't tell him about your werewolf condition?"

"A little. I liked to think that you should be able to confide in your family about anything, but he doesn't want to confide in me either." She frowned. "I guess that makes me kind of a hypocrite, being mad at him when I won't tell him anything."

"You have your reasons."

"What if he has his reasons, too?"

David couldn't really comment, especially not without more information. In the meantime, though, he needed to be honest with her.

"Sarah, there is something we need to discuss."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not entirely sure if it's a good idea to stay here. Your brother seems to have his own life now, and you have your own issues to contend with… as do I."

Sarah's face fell a little, though her gaze showed that she knew he was right. "Yeah… I only came here to get closure, and I guess I've already gotten as much as I can. If I keep wallowing in the past, I won't get anywhere."

"I think you're trying to keep the past alive, or possibly turn back time, by being here. You can't do that if you are going to solve your problems, Sarah."

"Well, the least I can do is sleep in my bed one last time."

"Yes, you can do that. We can also do our best to help your brother while we are here, but we'll need to determine what to do after that soon."

Sarah went to bed without saying much else. David rested on the couch for a while, considering the conversation he'd just had, along with various other matters.

It had already been close to three weeks since he had been able to give much thought to pursuing his own cure. It'd been kind of a relief to focus on a new and different problem for a while, especially since he now felt it was vital to know about the existence of werewolves and Esben's involvement. It put him in a position to help an innocent victim when she had no else who could understand how her insides worked now and know how it feels to be a human who metamorphosizes.

David hoped that he could continue to gently push Sarah into a direction where she would adapt and get used to surviving on her own. There was a small part of him that hated the idea of her being out there alone someday, even when the day would finally come that she could be independent, but… what could he do?

He had already permitted her to tag along for far longer than he'd ever allowed anyone. That was only due to the extenuating circumstances. His biggest concern, in a way, was whether or not he was genuinely helping to prep a young woman to exist in society while keeping her wolf side as discreet as possible… or if in some way, he was only delaying something inevitable and would be releasing a wolf into the wild.

No, Sarah was still human. She had shown she could control herself and let her humanity shine through. She only needed to be willing to move past what Esben did to her and let go of her childhood fancies and move on in life.

David hoped he could proceed with her, somehow and soon. He already had the same general conversation with her several times ever since they first met. Whenever he felt like he was helping her in the right direction, she would slip back into the same mode of deluded self-denial and not really wanting to deal with anything.

It wasn't like these were ideal circumstances, though; it would help a lot if they could find someplace private where he could really work with her. They finally found a place where she felt comfortable and a little "at home," but they couldn't do much with her brother always nearby and… in a way, David perceived that even this place was hurting her now, too.

What in the world was he going to do with her? Was there any place that they could go to? It wasn't like there was a custom-made training program for a werewolf, and he couldn't risk handing her over to a professional counselor at a hospital. If she was going to be helped, it was him or possibly nothing, not unless she wanted to risk being scrutinized and handed over to someone just as bad as Esben, if not worse.

David didn't even notice when he finally drifted off on the couch.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

No one knew how late James came back inside, though it had clearly been sometime after both David and Sarah had fallen asleep. David awoke with a slightly stiff neck and saw James and Sarah in the kitchen, chattering about something.

David rose and neared the kitchen to catch the tail-end of the conversation, realizing that the two had been reminiscing. Sarah's sensitive ears and nose picked up on his close proximity, and her greeting toward him alerted James of his presence.

"'Morning, David," James said in turn. "Hey listen, man, I overslept this morning, and I'm way behind in my morning routine. Could you do me a huge favor and feed the pigs? There are three pens close to the house, and one a bit further out. I need to go into town to run a few errands."

David agreed, never being one to shy away from work. He wasn't getting paid here, but he had been fed and allowed to spend the night here. That meant he could give something in turn.

Sarah had apparently resigned herself, for the time being at least, to cleaning and tidying up the kitchen. Whether she had volunteered to do it herself or James had asked her, David had no idea. She handed David a sandwich to start off his day, the designated breakfast of the morning.

It was a ham sandwich.

After David finished eating it along with a glass of orange juice, he glanced out the window and watched James depart in his pickup truck. He peeked in on Sarah, who had finished scrubbing counters and was just beginning to try cleaning a very greasy stovetop.

David offered a small smile and mentioned he was heading out the feed the pigs. She barely acknowledged with a nod, turning her attention back to what she was doing as David headed out.

At least one quality that Sarah had in her favor was that most of the time, she could pick up anyone coming near. That could serve her well out in the world.

It didn't take long for David to locate the pig food in the barn. He carefully scooped a portion of it into a large, metal bucket, noting that it was definitely organic. Still, nothing like a human being would want to eat unless really desperate. Some of it looked like malformed and shrunken rejects from a vegetable garden… did James have a garden somewhere on the property?

David wasted no time slopping the nearest pigs first, located in a smaller pen. It was apparently the spot where the youngest pigs were kept, appearing to be barely weaned. The second pig pen he slopped appeared to be fine-looking adult pigs, though if he were any judge, still reasonably young.

When he reached the pigpen that was furthest from the house, he found himself a little taken aback. These weren't fine-looking pink or white pigs that could be called cute like the others. These were ugly, ugly hogs.

They were huge, even for hogs, and they had long shaggy hair, and a few of them had long teeth that could almost be called tusks. In fact, all of them looked like they had a pretty mean bite.

David carefully poured their portion of the slop into their feeding trough, not really questioning why these swine were of a drastically different breed. It was a pig farm, and these still qualified as pigs. Maybe they were for different purposes or had other types of meat on them or something.

When he was finished, he set the bucket on the ground next to his foot and found himself taking a moment to lean against the fence and peer at the hogs one more time. They all ate, grunted, and smelled like pigs.

The largest one within the pen had especially big and sharp teeth.

David found himself staring at that one, especially when it lifted its head and locked eyes with him and snorted disdainfully. While the others made literal pigs of themselves fighting over the slop, the hog cocked its head at David and dragged its hoof across the dirt in a show of dominance as if it sensed the creature within him and was ready to fight.

David looked away quickly. Was that really a hog, or a small bull of sort? It certainly had the muscle and brawn to be considered a robust and powerful animal. Its tusk-like teeth resembled fangs and stuck out of either side of its mouth.

Something else caught David's eye just then. The ground inside was covered in mud, but something jutted out from the center of the pen. It looked like it might have been… a bone?

Further scrutiny made David feel he was not looking at just a bone, but part of a skull. It was a bit small to be an animal skull… and it looked eerily human.

David cast a glance at the hogs to make sure they were still engrossed in their feeding trough, then he carefully climbed up the fence and swung his legs over, dropping down on the other side. He didn't dare open the gate because he knew it would be murder trying to round these beasts up again if they got out.

Just as he neared the object of curiosity, however, the giant hog took notice of him again. It squealed loudly, then peered at David in a way that, just for an instant, he could've sworn the beast was grinning. It looked less like a hog and more like a mustache-twirling villain out of a children's cartoon.

David had just enough time to leap out of the way when the hog charged at him. As the animal began to reorient itself for another pass, David lost his footing and went kersplat in the muddiest spot of the pen. He tasted wet dirt, and possibly other things.

He tried to push himself up, but his hands and knees found no traction, and he only slipped and slid, getting more and more covered in mud. And Mr. Pig was coming at him for another attempted romp.

David managed to force his body to roll out of the way before the hoofs and teeth could get him. The giant hog shrieked in agitation, annoyed that its desired chew toy was playing hard to get. The only thing that gave David an advantage now was that the pig also failed to find traction and skidded until he bumped hard against the fence.

Desperate now, David strained his arms to try and reach the fence. It was so close, yet so far. His muscles tightened and stretched, and his pulse pounded as his stress levels rose. He forced deep breaths and attempted to calm himself. He refused to have a hulk-out.

Just the giant hog began to find some bearing, David heard a different and ominous noise… a low, rumbling growl that seemed to make the air vibrate. David froze, knowing that it did not sound like a pig. And it wasn't from the Hulk.

A blur of white fur vaulted cleanly over the fence and landed on the back of the menacing hog, securing it in a bear hug as the momentum sent both beasts rolling over each other. Silvery white fur turned mangy dark brown rather quickly, and the pig squealed and squirmed in the beast's grip, suddenly looking less like a bull and more like a frightened piglet in contrast to the size of the wolf.

David wasted no time getting a grip on the fence and managed to pull himself out. He dropped on the opposite side, grunting from the impact, but grateful to be alive and uninjured… and relieved to have avoided changing into the creature.

But speaking of creatures…

"Sarah!" He straddled the fence, ignoring the stinging in his backside. "I'm out now. Get out of there!"

Neither of them had noticed that James had returned in the pickup, intending to only stay briefly because he had forgotten a vital piece of mail he needed to drop off at the post office.

James was on his way to the front porch when he heard the commotion at one of the pig pens. He immediately ran to look, finding a mud-covered David on the ground just outside the enclosure and some kind of large predator within the fence perimeter. The beast held the largest pig in its clutches while the other hogs shrieked and ran around in terror, threatening to trample one another.

Scared and outraged, James ran back to the house so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. He snatched up a shotgun he had only fired a few times before, once while protecting the farm from a bear. He gritted his teeth and forced his hands to remain steady as he thrust a pair of shells into the duo-barrel and snapped it shut.

He bolted out the door and rushed toward the pigpen, finding that the creature had retreated from the pen and was uncomfortably close to David. James stopped several meters and took aim, knowing he had to act fast if he was going to save the man and the hogs.

"NO, DON'T!" David moved closer to the beast, holding up his arm and looking straight at James.

James froze, utterly perplexed. How could anyone stand so close to a wolf-like beast, and turn their back on it? And why was David acting like James himself was about to do something terrible?

The wolf didn't seem to be attacking. A brief glance at the pigpen showed that, while the livestock was very agitated, there was no sign of blood or injuries, they were just spooked.

"What the hell is going on here?!" James demanded. He lowered the shotgun somewhat but didn't point it away either.

Sarah took it upon herself to answer any questions as she changed back into human form and stood to her full height. If there was one thing that her romp in the mud was good for, at least it provided some modesty.

For a long moment, James remained frozen to the spot. Clearly, he did not believe his eyes or anything else his senses told him.

No one said anything. When David finally began to try and break the tension, James' hands trembled, and perspiration soaked his brow as he dropped the shotgun. He raced back to his pickup truck, and the tires screeched as he drove away from the farm.

Sarah cut loose with a stream of profanities that were quite unladylike, causing David to look at her with an expression that was somewhere between shock and reproach. He had no idea how a young woman, such as her, would even know such words that would make a sailor blush.

Besides… even if David didn't approve of how she expressed herself, he empathized with the sentiment. The situation had just gotten messier.

But speaking of messes…

"Sarah," David said, "We should get back to the house and get cleaned up, at least."

She raised her arm fast to point, hard, in the direction James had gone, she flicked mud on David's already mud-coated shirt. "What about him? What if he's gone off to tell other people what he just saw?"

"Then we have no time to waste," David stated firmly. "We don't know what he's going to do yet. But in case he does tell someone or brings other people back here, we need to get cleaned up and ready to leave fast."


	4. Chapter 4

James gave new meaning to the phrase "burning rubber" as he sped away from the farm toward a remote, dead-end road where he could park the pickup truck, shut off the engine, and just have a minute to catch his breath and think.

Once his heart stopped pounding in his chest, he thrust open the door and stepped out, starting to walk in an irregular, aimless circle around the vehicle.

His thoughts raced almost as fast as his pulse as he tried to make sense of everything. The aimless walking calmed James down. He hopped back into the truck and pulled out of his makeshift parking spot, swearing under his breath as the tires failed at first to get traction. "Damn these stupid dirt roads… always get muddy in the rain," he growled as he finally proceeded onward.

He couldn't go back to the house, not just yet… but he also couldn't let this go, either. He drove into town and parked as close as he could to the nearest phone booth. It was a good thing he always carried plenty of change.

A phone number was etched on the side of the phone's base that he could call in case of an emergency. It connected him to those who owned the land and farm that once belonged to his family. He had been firmly warned to never call it unless absolutely necessary.

"Hello?"

James cleared his throat, his hand tightening around the receiver. "Yes, this is James."

Pause. "This better be damn important."

"Yes, I…" What was he supposed to say? He'd already identified himself, and he knew there might be hell to pay if he kept silent. "I saw a werewolf today, on the property. I was just wondering if you knew anything about the… werewolves." He felt his throat constrict.

Suppose they didn't believe him? Would he accept such a crazy thing if he had been called out of the blue like this? It sounded like a childish prank.

Another pause. "What makes you think we would know anything about werewolves? Why ask us?"

That wasn't exactly the response James had been expecting. Were they trying to feel him out? He'd half-expected to be read the riot act and told that he'd be skinned alive if he ever called about stupid nonsense again. Were they actually considering what he said?

"So you do know something?"

"Tell me more about what you saw."

James excluded the fact that the monster in question was his own flesh and blood. He kept some details vague, merely mentioning that it was a "young woman" who showed up with some guy, and James himself had thought the monster was attacking the pigs.

"I see. Who was this young woman?"

"Oh, just someone on the farm."

"First off, Jim," the tone on the other end had darkened, "you've always been a terrible liar, so quit trying. Secondly, we both know that you haven't had much luck with the ladies, so it can't be that kinda thing. Thirdly, we are aware of a young lady who becomes a werewolf, and we _know_ who it is."

"Then," James gulped, "you already know about my sister?"

"Not on this line, kid. Come see me at the meetup spot in forty-five minutes." The line went dead.

James' hand shook so bad it took a couple of tries to get to hang up the receiver. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then got back into the pickup truck.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

After what seemed like an eternity, James found himself seated in the far corner of a small, private club known as the _Thorn & Crumpet_. It was a front for members of a mob known as the Wolfgangers… highly ironic, all things considered.

Those indebted to the mob, such as James himself, were permitted entry when they had business or if they'd been given a special invitation or some perk. There had been a couple of times where James had been "awarded" a private dance given by a stripper in the back room… which, just one time, had lead to more than just a dance.

James had been very drunk that night and vowed he would never speak of it.

It wasn't long before Lance finally appeared, a huge and hairy man who was sometimes mistaken as overweight at first glance. Still, most of the "fat" was actually bulging muscles. Lance sometimes used his physique to his advantage. He permitted people to think he was just a slovenly slob who could barely move one minute, then hoist someone in the air and chuck them across the room in the next instant.

When Lance approached James' table, he swiftly cuffed the young man across the head. It was intended as a light swat, but Lance didn't know his own strength.

It took a moment for the sting to wear off along with the ringing in his ears, and James finally recovered enough to demand, "What the hell was that for?"

Lance held up two fingers. "One. Quit looking at the girl in red. She's mine for tonight."

"She's in red? Didn't look like she had anything on."

James ducked and successfully dodged a second slap from Lance.

"Two." Lance went on, nonplussed, "I don't like your face. You best be extra careful, or I might rearrange it."

"I've been doing my job," James said. "I've done everything you've asked without question. I'm just here about my sister."

The chair directly across from James creaked loudly as Lance sank into it. "Yeah. Sarah."

James clasped his hands together tightly underneath the table, squeezing his fingers together so hard his knuckles turned white. It was the only way he could face Lance without any part of his body trembling. "I heard a rumor years ago that the Wolfgangers were somehow associated with a private organization… something to do with wolves and human experiments. Do you know anything about this?"

"It wasn't a 'private organization,' just one highly skilled scientist and physician who rustled a team together and did some crazy experiments behind the scenes with a bunch of volunteers." Lance narrowed his eyes, "They hired us to round up these volunteers from different places and backgrounds. Most of 'em were just bums, dirtbags, and grifters, they'd sell their souls for a quick buck."

"Did anyone else know about this?" James asked irritated at Lance's insinuations that his sister was anything like that.

Lance smirked and leaned in, compelling James to shrink back from the guy's after-lunch breath laced with onions, garlic, and anchovies. He suddenly pitied the girl in red.

"If anyone did find out, we were also responsible for eliminating any loose ends that might cause trouble in the future."

"Loose ends?"

"Meaning people like you," Lance jabbed a finger at James' face, his grimy nail almost poking the younger man in the nose. "That scientist dude was named Esben Hansen, and he was pretty damn _meticulous … _that was the big word he'd used. Hansen did a thorough background check on every one of his volunteers, including their relatives. Your Lil sis was easy. She was a hard-luck case, her big Bro had run off, and any other family was dead or incapacitated."

James blanched, unable to find his voice and unsure where to start asking further questions, but he didn't need to. Lance continued after letting all of that sink in.

"You see, _Jim_, Esben wanted the Wolfgangers to either capture or kill you, considering you were a potential loose end. Esben might've preferred to have you caught alive. He found your family's DNA interesting for some reason."

James shivered, remembering the monster his sister had become. He tried to play it cool. The burly gangster loved to run his mouth, and James needed all the information he could get. "So? Why didn't you hand me over, Lance?"

Lance got up to fish a beer from the refrigerator. He flipped the chair around and plopped back down so hard it buckled. "It's never too early for a cold one… so, you were already indebted to us thanks to your gambling spree and a pitiful losing streak in Vegas, remember? After your dear old Daddy died in that car crash, and your Mama ended up in a coma."

James hung his head, ashamed. He couldn't bear to be at his family home or face his sister after their parents had died.

Lance snorted. "Making sure your mother never woke from that coma was too easy. Untraceable poison added to her IV, sabotage to her life-support equipment, and that was all she wrote. As for you," Lance wagged the bottle at James, sloshing beer on his shirt. "just consider yourself lucky we claimed your life for ourselves. All you have to do is feed the bodies to those stupid pigs and keep your fool mouth shut. We even lied to Esben and told him you killed yourself, and then we fed you to those damn pigs."

James paled and remained frozen where he was. When the information finally got through, however, he stood up so fast his chair was thrown against the floor behind him.

"YOU BASTARDS KILLED MY MOTHER?!"

Several heads turned in their direction. While some had rules like "no women, no children," the Wolfgangers were another story. Nobody wanted to cross them. Lance practically snarled at the onlookers, and they simply turned back to whatever they were doing – gambling, watching the strippers, drinking, or engaging in business… perhaps even all of the above. In this club, such an outburst wasn't too shocking; James might as well have been shouting about being served milk instead of beer.

"Sit. Down. _James_." Lance gritted his teeth.

"NO!" James lunged over the table, nearly knocking it off its bolts. "YOU KILLED MY MOTHER." He grabbed Lance's neck.

Lance reacted swiftly. He gripped James by the throat and lifted him inches off the floor. James had the wind knocked out of him when Lance flattened him against the nearest wall and leaned into him with his enormous, muscled chest.

"I could snap your neck right here, little man," Lance growled. "And _really_ feed your body to those damn pigs."

With that, Lance set him down and let him go, looking down at the younger man without empathy as James clutched at his throat and struggled to get the airflow going through his windpipe again.

After barely giving the young man enough time to recover, Lance grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. "The only reason I'm telling you anything," Lance growled, "is because Esben is dead, and some of this no longer matters. But his overseas benefactors are still interested in your sister, and they told us to keep an eye out in case she tried going back to the family farm. Now, you're gonna help us get her packaged up and shipped off. You might even get lucky enough to get a small cut of the reward."

"What if I don't?" James rasped, still massaging his throat.

Lance matter-of-factly kicked James just hard enough to make his ribs smart and knock him over. Then Lance's foot came down, hard, on top of James' arm. The young man's scream of pain and outrage managed to cover up the sound of his bone cracking.

"Man alive, you're such a fragile little sissy." Lance picked up James and put him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "I'll take ya to our doctor to get that checked out before we do anything else. We do look after our own. After that, we'll go over some plans."

With that, Lance carried James out of the club.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"I'm worried about him."

David and Sarah were sitting in the kitchen, where David had made each of them a ham sandwich. In truth, David had refrained from commenting on how much pork, ham, and other foods that were obviously made from pigs were in that fridge. Apparently, James was, at the very least, eating high on the hog.

Both had showered and dressed in what they had available in Sarah's knapsack and David's duffle bag, as had been the plan if either of them had an unexpected metamorphosis. Now, all they could do was wait… and be ready to run.

"David," Sarah went on, "I didn't mention this before, but I think I smelled blood or human remains in the pig pens. It's practically coming out of their pores."

David nodded grimly. "I think I saw a human skull in one of the pens."

"Is that why you were in there?"

"Yeah. I was trying to get a better look."

"What is going on here, David? What is he really doing?"

"I don't know." He pushed his plate away. His stomach churned, and his appetite fled. "You know… I think I'll skip lunch today."

Sarah stood, her sandwich and beverage still wholly ignored and untouched. "Me too. I'm gonna see if I can sniff James out. Maybe I can find out where he went in the truck."

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea right now, Sarah."

"Why not?"

"If he does come back, he needs to do so in his own time after he has a chance to deal with what he… saw."

"So I'm just gonna have to wait and see if he'll come back and accept me or not?" Sarah shook her head irritated, already moving away. "I'm sorry, David, but I gotta find out what he's up to."

"Now, Sarah," David moved to follow her, "Hey, Sarah!"

She was out of the house before he could barely reach the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room. He rushed outside, and she had already jumped out of her clothes and tossed them aside. She was in the process of transforming into a wolf.

David permitted himself a moment to stare in fascination as her skin and muscles rippled and flowed until the white werewolf emerged. He sometimes wished he could witness his own transformation to the Hulk. He wanted to study it, learn to understand the effects on his body, and perhaps even come to accept it.

Sarah kept her back turned to him. There was always a little moment where she remained motionless when transforming, and needed to reorient herself and gain balance. During her mental recalibration, David appealed to her again.

"Sarah," he raised his voice, "if you go charging after James in werewolf form, you might make everything worse for both of you."

The white wolf turned toward David, growling shrilly. Her teeth were bared but clenched without any indication that she'd bite or even open her mouth.

"Don't you growl at me," David chided firmly, keeping his eyes locked with her own. He had observed at least enough of her body language and tendencies to recognize that nothing was threatening about this behavior. It was just a protest of sorts, albeit a menacing one.

"Sarah, doesn't everyone give you all of the alone time you want? Things can go tragically wrong if you try to hunt him down now as a wolf. He could hurt himself trying to escape or, if you transform in front of him again, it might send him into a deeper shock. Give him time. This is his job, and it is his home. He'll be back."

The werewolf lowered her snout and closed her mouth. She appeared to be adequately humbled and chose to heed the advice.

David regarded her a moment longer, then picked up the clothes and shoes she'd carelessly discarded. He held them out to her indicatively, and she slowly took them with no outward sign of attitude or malice.

"Come back inside… once you've changed back and gotten dressed." David went back into the house and left the door at just a crack behind him. He wasn't too keen on her being indoors while she was in wolf form… not with those large talons and long arms. Much of the furniture within looked brand new, after all.

Not that David was one to talk, considering many of his Hulk-related tantrums. But he knew the damage he could cause to a well-kept home. It still mortified David how the creature had trashed Caroline's beautiful apartment, not once, but twice. The night he hulked out while they worked on hypnosis and another time in his sleep from a nightmare.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was all that James could do to keep himself from shaking in his shoes as he waited to see the Wolfgangers' private doctor. Even as he cradled his arm and gnashed his teeth, trying to endure the agony of a broken bone, he wasn't sure what to expect.

Dr. William Thomas was in the mob's pocket. Whenever they took someone to him, it was usually for two reasons. When someone got injured, the gang wanted them treated fast, along with any medication and other care required. The other reason was that Dr. Thomas could also be instructed to give you a lethal shot and then send your body off to the pig farm.

Either way, Dr. Thomas was well paid to simply do his job and never questions, and he ran a small, legitimate clinic as a front.

James was only moderately relieved when he was well-treated, getting X-rays on his arm and the proper attention to his bone fracture. The Dr. put it in a cast and gave him pain medication to take at regular intervals. The Wolfgangers still wanted him alive…for now.

When they were done, Lance escorted James out to the pickup truck and stated he would drive again. "You wouldn't drive very well with a busted wing, after all," Lance grunted.

"Yes, thank you for that," James said ruefully as he struggled to put on his seat belt. "Why'd you have to do this, anyway?"

"It seemed like you needed a reminder not to get too uppity," Lance stated as he put the seat belt on James. "Especially for what's gonna happen next."

"You mean you still want me to hand over my sister?"

Lance shook his head. "I had a long talk with the Boss while you were getting seen by the doc. We've all agreed on something else instead."

"Like what?"

"Simple. The Wolfgangers don't want anything to do with Esben's higher-ups if we can help it. Those punks haven't contacted us or even paid for our services in quite a while. Since they believe you're dead, let's keep it that way. It's better all around. And let them think their precious werewolf is still lost out there.

James felt uneasy. This mob would never be so kind without favors in return. "Is…that all?"

"No. We'll drop the whole thing _if_ she'll agree to work with us."

"What the hell do you want her to do?"

"A werewolf's more valuable and way cheaper to feed and house than all those damn pigs. We'll get your sis to eat the bodies instead of the pigs. Maybe even agree to convert a few of the more loyal Wolfgangers with her venom. And there's a consolation prize for you. We'll let you stay on the farm with her, living just as you have."

"Why do you think she would ever agree to any of this?" James demanded. "I know my sister. She won't do it if you've got nothing on her."

"Oh, yes, we do. You see, we're not going straight back to the farm. We're gonna pick up some of the other guys, then go in nice and easy, and give your sister a choice. She can either eat the contents of the body bags we'll bring, or she can stand by and watch us bust your other arm and both your legs."

James paled, glancing down at his broken arm. Once Sarah saw it, she wouldn't need any further evidence that he had already been hurt once and that these guys meant business. But would she eat dead, human bodies? He didn't know his sister anymore. Let alone what kind of werewolf she was. Would she even willingly convert mobsters?

"Look, I don't know if this is gonna work," James said, his voice shaking. "What if you get a bunch of new werewolves, and you can't control them?"

"We ain't that dumb," Lance snapped. "We're gonna have a trial run with one member, first. If the guy shows he can't handle it, then he'll be put down like the dog he's gonna become." Lance cocked his finger like a gun. "One _silver_ bullet, right between the eyes."

"You're n-not gonna make me-"

"No, you dolt. It's gonna be _me._"

James was speechless. When he finally found his voice after a couple of minutes, he finally breathed, "You would really go through with that? You want to become a werewolf?"

Lance's face remained impassive as he raised one hand. James flinched, expecting to be struck, Lance's meaty hand simply tugged down the neckline of his own Tee-shirt.

James' eyes widened when he saw the top edge of a scar on Lance's bosom, most of it still concealed by his clothing. It was clearly the remnant of an old injury, one that had been very deep and stretched across a portion of his body that James couldn't see.

After letting James get a peek, Lance pulled his shirt back up. "The Wolfgangers are a family, and we look after our own and pay well. But there's always a price for getting uppity," he inclined his head toward James' arm, "or disobeying orders." Lance patted the spot on his shirt where the scar was concealed, then put his free hand back on the steering wheel.

James sank into the passenger seat, he stared forward in a daze.

Nothing further needed to be said between them. Clearly, each man was expected to perform a task that the Boss wanted.

Otherwise, they'd both end up in pig slop.

James couldn't help but wonder if he were more fortunate. He was in danger, depending on how things played out. The outcome depended on what his sister chose to do, or what lengths the mobsters would go to get her cooperation. He might end up in a body cast or even a wheelchair by the time all this was over… if he was lucky.

But Lance… For him, the choice was death or becoming a werewolf, which could also be followed by his death if the mob didn't like the results.

How was it possible to feel slight pity for someone who broke your arm, and would kill you without qualms if ordered to do so?

Any sympathy, however, quickly vanished when James suddenly remembered that this brute killed his mother. Tears threatened to fall as he imagined she died slowly and painfully. He glared at Lance.

"I'll make sure Sarah knows you poisoned our mother. You think she'd agree to work with you then?"

Lance snorted. "You'll keep quiet, or I'll give you a lump to make you quiet. Truth is, if she doesn't cooperate, I can instigate her into biting me by telling her how I killed your Mama." He gave James a brief, sideways glance. "Anybody can be provoked into doing something their own head would tell them not to if you get 'em mad enough. Remember that."

"How can you go along with any of this? How could you kill my mother while she was helpless? She was in a coma! She couldn't have done anything to the Wolfgangers." James' voice shook. His words were barely intelligible.

"When you've been around as long as I have, _Jimmy_, the lines of morality blur until they disappear." Lance wasn't looking at James now, his tone had gone flat. His eyes remained glued to the road, as though he'd gone on automatic pilot. His expression revealed emotions inside of him that he'd deadened a long time ago.

"Look, _Farm Boy_," Lance went on, deadpan, "not everybody gets to grow up in a little Fairy Tale paradise like you did. You've suffered a few legit tragedies, and you were spoiled and foolish as hell enough to chase the end of the rainbow for gold. It sounds like your sister was dumb enough to do similar… now she's a werewolf, and you're sitting next to me with a broken wing.

"But believe me when I say," Lance concluded, "there are far worse things out there that can happen to a person, or that people can do to each other, that your pretty little head couldn't even dream about."

"You sure don't talk much like a typical brute in the mob," James finally said, very softly, after a long moment. "Who are you really?"

Somehow, the air had shifted between them so that that question no longer seemed too forward.

"Name's not really Lance." The big, burly man drew in a deep breath. "My real name is Eric Hunter."

The name still meant nothing to James. He remained quiet.

"Let's just say," the mobster added, "I've got a half-brother out there somewhere who is like your sister. I don't even know if he's dead or alive. But, maybe if I get the curse, too… I'll know what it's like to be that way, and maybe I can find him."

"So that's why you're willing to go along with this?"

"Among other reasons, yes." Lance looked at James briefly, and something in his face softened. "Look, kid. For the sake of family, I'll do my best to make sure the other guys don't bust you up any more than you already are. Just don't make this harder on us than it needs to be. Also… I was _against _poisoning your mom, but then I overheard the Doctors. They were gonna pull her off life-support by the end of that week. So what I did was really an act of mercy."

James neither agreed or disagreed. Lance obviously had guilt issues, and a tiny spark of humanity still left in him. It didn't make James feel better… but he wasn't innocent either. One stormy night while James ground up the disgusting, human slop, one of the body bags rustled around violently. James flipped out in terror and repeatedly bashed it with a shovel until reality set in. He'd just killed someone who wasn't entirely dead and could've been saved. James nearly had a breakdown and called the gang. They consoled him by saying their victims were trash people who also did awful things and didn't keep their word.

James cleared his ugly thoughts and changed the subject. "Okay, I get why you might want to be a werewolf… if you want Sarah to bite you, fine, I won't get in your way. But I don't like the idea of making her eat dead bodies. We already have pigs for that. She could still get sick. My sister isn't your garbage disposal." He narrowed his eyes. "Would you want your brother to be used like that?"

"We all do what we gotta do," Lance pointed out. He didn't even have to indicate his scar this time. "Tell ya what, though. For her sake, I'll try to use my clout to talk the Boss out of it. The pigs are fine for that ugly business… and I just want some of your sister's venom."

"Then, I'll go along with this."

For now.

James didn't even have to say those two words aloud. They hung in the air between them anyway.

"Not like you've got a choice, kid." Lance reminded him firmly. However, he now wore an expression that was somewhere between dark and wistfully regretful. Damnit. Was he getting soft despite everything in this business? He couldn't let himself care too much or get off-course.

Then again, he wasn't a complete monster. He once refused to terrorize and evict an elderly woman from the mob-owned property. She happened to remind him of his beloved Great-Grandmother. It had been an ugly situation where the woman's grandson had agreed to do errands for the mob, in exchange for them providing his elder relative with a place to stay.

When the grandson had failed to keep up his end of the deal, Lance had been tasked to go after the old woman… just to find himself unable to go through with it.

The result was to get beaten up badly and have a couple of jagged pieces of metal raked across his chest and back. Ever since then, he'd tried to do better about maintaining a certain grit and deadening his conscience.

Sometimes, he convinced himself that it wasn't really him doing the Wolfganger's will, but another, more evil man who shared this shell he called a body.

"We're here." Lance pulled the pickup truck up to the rendezvous, and at least half a dozen men piled themselves into the back even before he brought them to a full stop. "Just keep quiet, kid. It'll be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

Lance held back shock when he recognized someone amidst the small group of men, most of whom had already climbed into the back of James' pickup. The Boss himself had come out to play. The Boss motioned everyone else to wait in the truck, then indicated he wanted both Lance and James to step out.

The Boss was a huge man, bordering on seven feet tall. While Lance was stout and appeared plump at first glance, the Boss was a bean pole by contrast. However, anyone who had been on the receiving end of their brutality knew they were both stronger than they looked.

"You've come to oversee this, Goliath?" Lance greeted him, not bothering to mask his surprise, as the trio moved a short distance away from the truck.

"You think I'd do anything less where something as potentially valuable and unpredictable, as a werewolf is involved?" Goliath looked at Lance like he was stupid. "Now, _you_." He pointed at James. "The werewolf is your sister, right?"

James could barely manage a nod. He had never seen the Boss face-to-face before, and the man was every bit as menacing and intimidating as he'd heard. The name Goliath suited him perfectly. James suddenly felt less frightened of Sarah in her wolf form and wished he'd stayed at the farm to try and understand her weird condition. He probably had a higher chance of staying alive and unharmed around her.

"Quit standing there gawking like a retard and tell me about her. Everything you know!" Goliath demanded.

It was all James could do to stand erect and not clutch at his broken arm. "I… I don't know much about her, sir. She just showed up the other day, and wouldn't tell me anything. I didn't even know she was a werewolf until I saw her in the pigpen."

Goliath's dark eyes narrowed. "Why was she in the pigpen?"

"I don't know." James realized he didn't even know what Sarah or David had been doing in there or why Sarah had been in wolf form. He had a vague recollection that David was gonna help feed the pigs that morning.

"Ya don't know? Isn't your specific job to watch over those damn pigs at all times?"

James explained, "I left to run errands. Sarah was cleaning the kitchen, and David went to feed the pigs. I ended up going back because I forgot something. That's when I heard a commotion down in the bigger hog pen. It looked like a werewolf was trying to eat the hogs, so I got my shotgun. But David got in the way and told me not to shoot. Sarah changed back to normal, and… I ran. I got scared. I drove away and called Lance."

Goliath had clearly been caught up to speed by Lance but fished for additional information. "Who is this guy David? What do you know about him?"

"Nothing. He just showed up with Sarah."

"Are they lovers?"

"No, I didn't get that vibe. David's too old for her, I think."

Lance snorted. "Age is just a number, kid. Never stopped me before. He probably likes 'em young." Goliath shot him a chilling look, and Lance shut his mouth.

James felt the urge to defend his sister. "It's not like that! They didn't even share a room, okay? He's just a drifter, and somehow she's with him. He's… he's a _nice_ guy. Too nice, maybe that's why he got caught up in Sarah's drama." James kicked the dirt suddenly annoyed. "She has a way of dragging people into her drama and getting clingy on them."

Goliath rolled his eyes. "_Whatever_. It seems like David already knows she's a werewolf," Goliath mused. "Do you think he's a werewolf, too?"

"I… I…" James blanched at the thought. "I have no idea."

Was it possible that there were two monsters at the farm right now? As if trying to come to terms with his sister morphing into a big, scary creature wasn't bad enough.

Lance chimed in, "Goliath, if there's even a remote possibility they're both monsters, we should be careful. We don't know what they're capable of, especially if they're a team."

Goliath grunted in acknowledgment. "What happened at that hog pen, when you saw them?" he asked again, turning back to James. "Was the werewolf really trying to eat the pigs?"

"She… she didn't harm the pigs," James stated, shaking his head.

"Then what the hell was going on down there? What was David doing?" Goliath pressed.

James knew the Boss was only worried about the human remains. "I don't know, but he was covered in mud… like he'd been in there, too."

Goliath's temper riled, and he clenched a fist. "Do you know _anything_, James? Why am I always tethered to idiots?"

"He Probably fell in the mud," Lance cut in, amazingly coming to the kid's defense. "and She-Wolf rescued him. Those hogs have a taste for human flesh now, you know. They weigh a ton, and can crush a man if he's not careful."

"Those fences are too high for someone to lean over and accidentally fall in," Goliath said. "Unless they're dumb enough to climb on top and dangle over the edge. Something tells me this David cat is brighter than that."

"So, you're saying he might have deliberately gone into the pen? _Crap!_ Do you think he saw leftovers?" Lance said.

"Yes, I think he noticed something worth investigating." Goliath's gaze and mouth tightened. "Maybe _somebody _was careless with the bodies."

James shrank back but kept quiet.

"Then," Lance deduced, "for all we know, those two might suspect James now."

James went even paler when Goliath's dark eyes concentrated on him again. "Sarah said something yesterday about knowing other people had been in the house… and she smelled something at the pigpen," James finally offered. "But she wouldn't say what! She's so damn stubborn."

"Hold on," Lance held up a hand, "if David's a werewolf, why couldn't he just transform and get himself away from the pigs? And why didn't he eat them?"

"Maybe he's not a monster?" James could only hope. He wanted at least some things to be normal and exactly how they appeared on the surface.

"Don't rule it out," Goliath said tersely. "Esben said that most of the werewolf test subjects couldn't transform at will… or even if they did, they became feral, mindless beasts. It could be that he _is_ a monster, and he either can't transform at will or won't dare to. Either way, we shouldn't rule out there might be an external trigger for him."

The implications hung in the air between them that Sarah might have joined forces with, or at least befriended, one of Esben's rejects. Why else would anyone in their right mind act calm around her in wolf mode, or even show signs of being protective toward her? It was also a wolf-instinct to form packs.

Goliath and Lance exchanged looks as they tried to determine the potential identity of David Baxton. Goliath, at least, remembered Esben had mentioned a man named David in passing a couple of times, but little else. Then again, it could have been another David.

"Alright, we're gonna change plans," Goliath finally said. "And you," he snarled at James, "will listen very closely and do _exactly_ as I say."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The sun had barely set by the time James returned to the farm in his pickup. The roar from the engine alerted Sarah's sensitive ears to his approach even before he entered the gate. Sarah gasped in horror when she ran outside. The pickup had a severely dented hood, warped front fender, and a large indent on the driver's side door. Her eyes widened when James stepped out, one of his arms in a cast.

"Jimmy, what the hell happened?" Sarah demanded, stepping closer with David coming out to join her. David glanced at the truck, then discreetly glanced at James for signs of other injuries or outward discomfort, and noticed some bruising around his neck area.

"I was in an accident," James said deadpan. "I wasn't watching where I was driving." Feeling their growing accusatory stares, he quickly defended himself. "Can ya blame me after what I saw today?"

"Is that how this happened to your arm? Are you okay?" Sarah gently went nearer to touch James' elbow, and he moved just enough to avoid her. His avoidance stung her, but she tried to understand.

"Yeah, a clean break. It'll heal in no time. No sweat." James didn't want to discuss it further.

David's attention had turned to the vehicle. He scrutinized the patterns of damage, frowning. It wasn't in his nature to make direct accusations, but something told him they didn't have much time. He wanted to get to the bottom of this.

"What're you gawking at my truck for?" James asked irritably.

"It seems the damage is inconsistent with an accident," David mused, folding his arms. "It looks like this truck was hit repeatedly by metal clubs… or something similar." His hazel eyes were full of questions and mild doubts as they locked onto James' face.

James looked up and avoided his gaze. A tell-tale sign he fished for a lie. "I don't know what you're talking about. It was a three-on-one collision."

David didn't know how that type of accident would've dented the pickup's roof, but he let him continue his lie.

"I ended up with a busted wing. I went to the hospital, got a cast, and came back home. You think I'm just wearing this for a show?" James snapped, holding up his arm. "Are you some Doctor? Maybe you'd like to take the cast off and poke it?"

David still took pride in his profession. But he had to lie. "I have medical experience, but no. I wouldn't do that." David had seen the prescription pain meds in the younger man's pocket. They wouldn't be given to someone without a good reason. It wasn't his style to be that intrusive anyway.

"You clearly have a broken arm. But I wonder if it really happened the way you claim."

"Would you lay off, man?" James shouted. "Just…" He stopped, looking sharply in a different direction. "Sarah, what are you doing?"

Sarah crouched in the back of the pickup truck with her head cocked, and she sniffed the air around her. No one had even noticed her climb up or hop on. She moved to the edge and swung her legs over, letting them dangle. "Who was back here?" She indicated the space. "The scents are still pretty fresh… there's a lot of them. I know they were men."

"Come on, Sarah, you're not a dog. I gave some guys a ride, okay?" James said defensively. "There was a small bus in the accident. I had to take people to a place they could call for their own rides. Now get off my back! I wanna lie down for a while."

The timing didn't make any sense to David. James would've been in too much pain to drive with an untreated broken arm, but he could've given someone else the keys. David kept his thoughts to himself again. He'd said more than enough.

James stormed off toward the house and slammed the door so loud even Sarah jumped.

"He's lying to us," Sarah stated the obvious, frowning toward the house.

David walked around the large truck, realizing just how petite Sarah was in her human form and that her feet were nearly four feet from the ground. "Come on, let's get you down."

"I don't see what the big deal is," she grouched. "You know I heal fast if I get any _ouchies_." She peered at James' room window and wished she could temporarily transfer that ability to her brother.

"True. But, my mother raised me to be a gentleman. Just try to be careful about letting those wolf senses lead you into danger." David told her.

"I like to think my senses keep me _away _from danger, David." Sarah retorted.

David didn't mean to scold like a parent. But suspicions about this whole farm gnawed at him. He was sure he'd found human remains in the pigpen, Sarah had smelled them too. James outright lied about his injury. He had no other tell-tale scrapes and cuts one would get in a car pile-up. But the finger bruises on his neck told another story. Now that James was injured, Sarah wouldn't be so quick to leave him.

David's past adventures had sharpened his own intuition for danger, and right now, they nudged him fiercely to pack up and get out with or without her. But a promise was a promise.

"Okay, okay. Don't bite my head off. Doctor's orders." David attempted to joke.

"Fine. I'll try and be a dainty werewolf." Sarah did a mock curtsy and stalked back to the house before he could go into lecture mode.

David watched her go, deciding he would give her a chance to have a little time alone with James. Maybe the young man would be more forthright with her in private, especially now that some of their secrets had been unveiled. In the meantime, David pried open the hood of the pickup to look at the engine. He frowned at the damage, noting that what he saw still didn't match up. If anything, it looked more like sabotage, with just enough tampering here and there to make the vehicle run rough, but still operate.

David shook his head as he shut the hood. He leaned against the truck and mulled over everything he'd seen. He decided to kill some time and walk around the property to investigate.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Goliath and Lance had followed James' pickup back to the farm and hidden their much quieter vehicle nearby, but out of sight. They crept stealthily in the shadows, observing from the outer perimeter of the fence. James and Sarah had disappeared into the house. At the same time, the one who they pegged as David checked over the vehicle, and then walked around the house.

At first, neither Goliath nor Lance said a word; they barely dared to breathe. If David was a werewolf, there was a possibility that he had developed the same super-hearing as Sarah. And if they weren't careful, he might detect them by scent.

They quietly hid behind a clump of rose bushes as the wind picked up and blew directly toward David after he came uncomfortably close to the flowering fence. The ducked low when David touched a few roses and leaned in to smell them. He showed no awareness of their presence or scent. It wasn't long before David turned and resumed his aimless, scrutinizing of the property.

"Maybe he's _not_ a werewolf," Lance finally whispered when he felt David was out of earshot.

"Or, he didn't develop the same wolf-senses as some of the others," Goliath said. "Remember, Esben rejected plenty who didn't have all the qualities he wanted. But then I'm surprised he didn't kill the guy for it. With what Esben did to those wolf rejects…man, that Scientist makes me look like a Saint! James' dear sister just happened to have the best of everything rolled into one, along with her ability to transform at will."

"It almost sounds like you hope he _is_ a werewolf."

"I don't _'hope'_ one thing or another, you blubber brain. I just need to know what we're dealing with before we make our next move."

"All we know is that he can't smell or hear above normal human range," Lance said. "And he's smart. He picked up right away that James' car was sabotaged. So, how do we proceed from here?"

"Looks like he's going back inside," Goliath observed. "He definitely suspects something."

"We can't wait around too long, we're gonna have to make a move soon before they decide to bring in the authorities or try to run away."

Goliath punched Lance on the cheek. "Don't tell me how to run my outfit! I'm well aware of everything. Just shut up and follow my lead."

Lance grimaced and flinched, but he recovered quickly and refused to show pain. "Yes, sir."

"Tell the other guys to get into position around the outer perimeter of the fence, but observe only. We want to make sure nobody leaves. We're not gonna do anything until morning."

"Yes, sir."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

David's walk had revealed nothing, although he knew it might behoove him to look again during daylight hours. It was too dark in the barns without proper lighting. At least the pigs slept soundly.

A loud shattering of glass interrupted his thoughts.

David ran into the house, but everything was stone-quiet. Somehow, that seemed almost ominous. David rushed into the kitchen and saw Sarah in there, alone, with her back to the door. Her body heaved angrily, and he hoped she didn't transform inside the house.

Glass shards covered the table. Blood droplets made a bright contrast on the tan tablecloth and marred the shattered pieces. He cleared his throat as he came closer. She didn't even react, indicating she had already been aware of his presence. The blood dripped slowly off her arm, down her hand.

David hurriedly checked her arm but didn't have to worry. Despite the blood, her wounds had perfectly healed. He barely had enough chance to examine her hand at the off chance glass had embedded under the skin.

She pulled away abruptly. "Leave it. I'm fine."

"Outwardly, yes, you are." David leaned against the nearby counter and folded his arms. "What happened here?"

"I got mad and broke a glass."

"Why?" David asked. "And where's James?"

"James went to bed. We had an argument."

"About what?"

Sarah pulled a chair out from the table so fast its legs grated loudly against the floor tiles. She sat and plunked her arms down hard on top of the broken glass before David could stop her.

"Sarah! Why did you do that?"

She hissed in discomfort as she stood up and moved away from the table. One elbow appeared fine, but her careless action had left three shards deeply embedded in her other arm.

David all but snatched her wrist when she made a move to yank out the glass. "Why don't you let me take that out."

It wasn't a question.

Sarah's bad mood and desire for independence sprang forth. She shot him a withering look. "I can take care of it myself. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? I'm gonna heal anyway."

"Yes, you'll heal," David stated, giving her a stern look, "but I'm a doctor, and I can do it in a way that will cause less tissue damage than if you just carelessly rip them out. I have to do this before your arm heals around the glass, and it becomes even harder to remove them."

Sarah's attitude simmered under his glare and logical reasoning. She refused childishly for several more seconds, then finally relented and permitted him to lead her to the sink. David refrained from commenting on how her stubborn hesitation allowed the tissues to almost wholly heal around the glass, which meant he had to re-open the wounds. He sterilized the best and sharpest knife he could find in the kitchen for the procedure.

"Sarah, you need to keep your arm still," he chided at one point. When she gave him a harsh look, he added, "If you don't, I could get cut too, or they could go in deeper." That seemed to convince her to remain cooperative, but she kept up her silent treatment.

When the procedure was done, he set the glass shards aside on a bloodied towel. He maintained a gentle hold on Sarah's arm to monitor the regeneration process. A small part was a genuine curiosity to see it happen. The biggest reason was that one of the pieces had been uncomfortably close to an artery. Even though he knew that Sarah's healing ability was strong, David still wasn't ready to put full faith into it if she sustained a severe injury.

"Sarah, I need you to keep still a little bit longer," he told her when she tried to pull away. He kept his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from moving again.

"Why? The glass is out."

"Yes, but I need to make sure there won't be internal bleeding or other complications."

"How about I just come to you if my arm starts bloating?" Sarah wrenched her arm free.

David's hand tightened around her shoulder. "Sarah, that glass may have penetrated an artery. If your regeneration fails or grows sluggish, you'll continue to bleed. I read all the medical documents Tasha collected."

According to Esben's research and observations, werewolf blood replenishes itself very quickly if lost. Any artery that remained damaged during the healing process could flood an endless supply of blood outside the circulatory system and create problems for other organs until it was re-absorbed.

"I want you to have something to eat to aid your healing process and reduce the chance of complications," David finished in a tone that left no room for argument. He went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He cringed at the porcine meal, but took out two, already prepared ham sandwiches, then led her into the living room to sit on the couch.

David sat with her, monitoring the injury and making sure she ate. It was clear that he considered this an emergency situation, and he wouldn't accept her refusal of food this time.

"Your brother doesn't seem to believe in any other food but pork. In the long run, that's not healthy."

"It's free and in abundance on the farm now. Why not?" Sarah mumbled through chews.

David didn't want to even voice what he was thinking as the skull he'd seen in the mud flashed through his mind. He held back another doctorly lecture. After she had eaten both sandwiches and drank the water, David gently examined her arm again. He palpated it with his fingers, noting that while she didn't try to pull away, she did flinch at his touch.

"I think you're going to be alright. The wound's nearly gone. I think your healing factor is even better than mine. But it'd be impossible to test." He let go of her arm and sat on the opposite couch across the coffee table, sensing she needed personal space.

David had some things he wanted to address. "Sarah, why do you make it difficult for me whenever I try to help you like this?"

Sarah turned away, though he caught a look of irritation mixed with regret on her face. "I don't like it," she finally said. "I mean… when I was at Esben's lab… they always stared at me like I was just a specimen to poke and prod. An animal in a cage. They even cut my skin on purpose to see how fast I would heal."

David nodded, his face softening. That was the very fear that kept him on the run and from revealing his true identity to anyone as long as he could help it. "I see. But I'm not Dr. Hansen, Sarah. I'd be lying if I said I didn't find your condition… _interesting_, but my primary goal is to make sure you're healthy and that your body is operating as it should."

"I know. I know," Sarah sighed. "It's nothing personal. I don't like going to the doctor. In my family, we rarely went to the doctor for anything unless it was an emergency. We never did regular checkups or… anything." She gave a small shrug. "I guess it made me feel that the body will just take care of itself for the most part, and going to the doctor costs money. Now I _do_ have a body that heals itself, and I don't like to be gawked at while it's doing that."

"I can understand your family's decisions, even if I don't agree, Sarah. Believe me." David swallowed back tears before she noticed. Memories of his suffering mother hit him. David's stubborn, old fashioned father had refused to call a doctor, and she died at home with Pneumonia. David vowed that day to become the best doctor he could be. He wasn't prepared to share that with Sarah.

"Listen, Sarah, I…"

"You gotta admit," Sarah cut him off a tad sharply, "I know you find it more than a little _interesting_. I saw the way you watched my skin seal up in the kitchen. You still have that scientific curiosity in you."

David rubbed his forehead, irritated. "Yes, Sarah, because I _am_ a Scientist. It's a career I trained over half my life for. I'm not just some down-on-his-luck grifter or your tag-along."

Sarah let out a sound akin to a growl, and David knew he'd figuratively gotten under her skin with that comment. At least she didn't storm off in a tantrum. David realized he had been naive to think they had already moved past that issue so quickly. Not with her mercurial temper. Putting her traumatic experience with Esben aside, David noticed that Sarah fretted and stewed over apparently inconsequential things that others would just brush over or let go. Did she genuinely feel on a deeper level that all scientists were like Esben? Or was she just bringing this up again to be difficult?

"Sarah, would you have preferred it if I'd left you alone to risk you bleeding out?"

"Maybe! I don't know!"

"Sarah, be reasonable. I'm the only doctor available who can help you. Yes, I _do_ stare at some of your body's unique tendencies when I can witness them. It helps me to know what to expect in the future, and possibly how to attend to your needs better. And," he pointed out, "any 'gawking' I've done would pale in comparison to what another doctor might do if they tried to treat you."

He regarded her quietly for a moment, hoping that would help her see reason through her ungrateful attitude.

She finally stood, her expression rueful… though her voice trembled when she spoke. "I don't see why any of this matters. You've said it yourself, I have to leave your company eventually anyway."

"Sarah," David rose as she began to walk away, but she quickened her pace until she reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her.

David released a frustrated sigh, not bothering to go after her. He started to wonder if she intentionally tried to put a wedge between them on some level. It could be her own way of preparing herself for when they would have to part ways. Was there a part of her that wished she could tag along with him forever, or at least until a cure or permanent solution was found? Or was she just feeling vulnerable again, especially after Tasha's betrayal, and the news that her mother had died?

David sensed that Sarah wanted him to give her something more than just his company, advice, and help to point her in the direction of a cure and gain independence. What _was_ it she wanted from him, exactly? What did she want from herself? From anyone?

Sarah still tried to deal with the reality that there's no Santa Claus to magically give her everything she wanted. David certainly couldn't give her more than he already had. Sarah wanted to have the past back, especially her childhood and her family, as it had been before. But she'd be hard-pressed to find anyone who could give it to her and eventually she'd have to accept that reality.

David remembered how he came to terms with reality after his cushy life was upended when his wife Laura died. Later, everything he'd worked so hard for came to an explosive finish at the Culver Institute. The tragic death of his dear friend Elaina, a woman he also loved, was another nail in the proverbial coffin of Doctor David Banner.

David returned to the kitchen and grabbed the wastebasket and a cleaning brush to carefully sweep the broken glass shards off the table. He threw all the glass, including the ones he'd taken from Sarah's arm, in the bin. On second thought, David grabbed rubber gloves and a bottle of bleach from under the sink. He tossed it all over the bloodied towel, tablecloth, and glass, hoping to decontaminate her venomous blood in the event the garbage ripped and cut someone. When David was satisfied with his clean-up, he took out the trash after double-bagging it. At the very least, he would ensure that no further injuries resulted from the hazard.

When he came back inside, he went to James' room and gingerly opened the door a crack to check on the young man. James was lying down with headphones, but he wasn't asleep. Unfortunately, the door hinges had not been lubricated in a long time and creaked loudly. James looked up and shut off his walkman.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see how you were," David said, already starting to shut the door.

"No, don't go," James said, indicating him to come in with his good arm. "I'd like to talk to you a minute, man."

David entered and left the door wide open, taking a seat in a chair near the bed. "Yeah, I'd like to talk to you, too." He leaned forward. "about the skull I saw in the hog pen."

They stared at each other, and James' face paled while David's remained severe.

"That's why you and Sarah were over there, wasn't it?" James snapped. "You saw something funny."

"It wasn't funny at all. What is going on around here, James?"

James looked away. "I-I have to do… _things_ …for the people who own the house and the property."

"What kind of _things?_" David's eyes narrowed.

"I get rid of their evidence, okay? I mean… _I_ don't kill… I just feed the garbage to the pigs."

David swallowed back shock. Regret for ever getting involved with this family passed through his mind, but he brushed it off. "Do you really think so little of human life? That you would condone killing and hiding the evidence?"

"Like I said, I don't do any of the killings," James said stiffly. "I just do what I gotta do to stay here and pay off a debt I can't pay off any other way. Do you know what it's like to be down on your luck? You just gotta take what you can."

"Yes, I do. But I would never resort to this."

"You think you can just walk into this place with my sister and judge me? What do you know?" James snapped. "Look, man, I don't know what the story is between you and Sarah, and I don't care anymore. I want you out of here, understand? Just leave my sister and me alone!"

David rose quickly. He was more than happy to oblige at this point.


	6. Chapter 6

David walked away from the house briskly, uncertain of where to go at this late hour. He knew that it was always possible to hitch a ride anywhere, and he'd become adept at finding hidden park benches or unlocked sheds to sleep in.

When he reached the outer front gate, however, he thought he heard rustling. He paused to look around but figured it was just the wind and opened the shrieking, rusted gate.

He set forth, down the dirt road and didn't look back, but could've sworn he heard the mournful whimper of a wolf.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Looks like that David cat is headed toward the highway," Lance observed in a whisper.

"No kidding," Goliath snapped, "and you almost gave us away!"

"Sorry, Boss. Should we let him go?"

"Absolutely not! We're not lettin' anyone go. There's a good chance he knows everything." Goliath motioned Lance to hand him the shotgun.

Goliath took careful aim and grinned. "This time, Goliath's gonna bring down David with one blow." He fired. "Damnit!" He seethed, realizing he'd only grazed David's thigh.

A burning pain enveloped David's leg, and blood oozed through his jeans. He let out a pained shout and staggered onto his knees. On instinct, David quickly flattened himself on the road and curled up. Another bullet sailed over him, just missing his head. His breathing intensified as a burst of adrenaline shot through him. His chest expanded with each roaring exhale, and the pain lessened.

Goliath shot three more times, and the gun merely clicked. The chamber was empty. He slapped Lance on the back of the head. "You moron! You didn't refill the bullets!"

Lance didn't even flinch this time. His jaw slackened, and his eyes bulged as he watched the scene ahead of them.

"Look at me when I'm talking to ya!" Goliath screamed at him. Lance merely pointed at David. "That… that ain't no wolf."

Goliath turned his gaze just in time to see David's green body nearly explode through his plaid shirt and boots.

"Holy…" His curse went unuttered as the green monster rose and glared at them with pure anger. It gnashed its teeth and charged.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sarah rolled over in bed and hurried to the window. She'd heard David shuffling around, and the sound of clothing quickly getting folded and stuffed into the worn brown bag he always carried. The old house performed cacophony of creaks and groans as he inched down the stairs, through the living room, and out the door.

Sarah hung out the window and let loose tears of frustration. Why did everyone let her down? Or did she let him down? Life wasn't fair. She watched his dwindling silhouette on the road, and the cracking of a gunshot sent him sprawling down. Blood rushed to her ears, and her heart leaped. They'd been ambushed. She snarled and dove through her window.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Goliath and Lance crab crawled from behind the bush, filled with terror as the creature gained on them and finally got on their feet. Just when they thought they could make a run for it, then found themselves face to face with a white, snarling werewolf. It's claws, and bared fangs glistened in the moonlight.

Goliath recovered first and punched Lance to snap him out of his terrified reverie. "Keep that thing busy!" he ordered and ran off.

Lance mustered up the courage and gave the heaving beast a swift knock in the shin. He raced back toward the house. The white wolf howled and chased the bald thug, intent on swiping him off his feet and clawing his face off for that painful kick.

Goliath called for his cohorts, watching two of them scamper into the woods. "You bastards! Cowards! Stop hiding and come out!" He panted as he neared the house, he hadn't run this much in years. He turned and came face-to-face with the roaring green giant.

A few gang members crept closer, but none dared trust their aim or fire while the creature was so close to their boss. As tall as Goliath was, he still had to look up when the Hulk loomed over him. He picked up Goliath with one hand and tossed him like a sack of potatoes into the middle of a pig-pen.

The hungry animals woke and squealed as they rushed to circle their new prey. Goliath shook off his dizziness, lifted his head, and spat out the disgusting mud and pig droppings. He slithered until he found his bearings. The pigs' hot breath tickled his skin, and some bared their sharp teeth. He jumped up, startling the animals, and clamored for the fence. The swine, unused to moving, fresh meat, scattered away.

Lance rushed to help Goliath climb out of the pen. "You okay, boss?"

Goliath grunted as he landed on solid ground. "Do I look okay. That green thing nearly broke every bone in my body." He stumbled around.

"Is…Is it David?"

"What do you think? We both saw him change! This is damn freaky!"

The She-Wolf reappeared, gnashing her teeth as she twisted a rifle like a pretzel and flung it at the back of a thug. It struck him between the shoulder blades and ricocheted off to whack his partner in the face. They yelled in pain and tried to escape, but the Hulk menaced them from the opposite direction. Lance and Goliath skidded to the road.

"Keep the Big Bad Wolf busy, I'll deal with Jolly Green Giant," Goliath ordered.

Lance circled around the She-Wolf in a teasing manner, cursing and shouting childish nursery rhymes. This was his chance. "You think you can take me? Not by the freakin' hairs on my chinny-chin-chin! You can't even catch these hogs, not even the ones that cry wee-wee all the way home!"

Unamused, the werewolf swiped at him, Lance barely dodged it and rolled out of the way.

Lance narrowed his eyes. He still needed the beast's venom. He had to get her angry enough to bite, not just swing her fists and claws.

"Come on, ya big hairball! My cat could cough one up bigger than you! I bet you couldn't even eat my Grandma!" Lance taunted.

The werewolf cuffed him on the temple, enough to leave him momentarily stunned. Lance realized that she held back. He suddenly remembered Esben bragging about how Patient X kept her human thoughts even in wolf form. If Sarah really wanted to hurt him, he would've been torn open and spilling his guts in the dirt by now.

Lance needed to bring out the big guns. "You know how your little ol' Mommy was in a coma?" He grinned menacingly as she froze, her ears flattened against her skull, and her eyes widened. "Yeah, _I_ killed her. I poisoned her IV and meddled with her life-support. She's dead because of me!"

The enraged roar had barely left the wolf's mouth when her fangs clamped onto Lance's shoulder.

Two thugs crept up, and one struck werewolf on the back while the other whacked her head with a club. The beast pried its jaw off Lance, taking a chunk of flesh and sending him to the ground in spasms of white-hot pain. She slammed the one behind her with a strong arm, and he soared into the grass, his neck crunched at an impossible angle. The other thug rammed her on the head again, and she tottered in a daze.

The rest of the men helped Lance up and quickly ran off, leaving their cohorts body behind.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Goliath pursued the Hulk, and they stood each other down. The Hulk threw a major tantrum and warped the front gate as if irritated by the shrill noise and squeaky hinges. He tore the door off and flung it into the pig fence, splintering and crunching the wood.

A wave of scared hogs bolted across the property.

"If you're trying to get those pigs to eat me," Goliath sneered, "you're wasting your time!" He picked up a chunk of wood from the broken fence with a battle cry and lunged at the Hulk.

The Hulk gritted his teeth like a furious animal and raised his muscular arms to take the brunt of Goliath's blow. The Hulk gripped the wooden beam and yanked it out of Goliath's grip, tearing up the gangster's palm with splinters. Goliath cursed and stumbled back as the Hulk broke the board in two. He grabbed Goliath by his shirt and hefted him well above his head.

Goliath broke out in a sweat. It had been years since anyone could get close enough to lay a hand on him and live to tell about it, let alone pick him up like a toy more than once. The Hulk then gave Goliath another toss into a pile of straw several meters away.

Goliath, however, wasn't down yet. He rose, not bothering to swipe or pluck the dirty straw off his clothing or hair. He yanked the last of the splinters with his teeth from his bloodied palm and spit them out. He ignored his protesting muscles and stood to his full height.

"I'm gonna end this, you green freak!" He bellowed.

The Hulk arched his arms and roared. He ran to the barn and picked up an old, rusted wheelbarrow. Goliath had just enough time to dive to one side, and it sailed past him and through the barn wall. Goliath smashed a window and plucked out a long, glass shard. He ran straight at the Hulk slashed the creature's arm.

Crying out, the Hulk cringed and pushed Goliath's arm away when he tried to come at him again. Then the Hulk clenched his bared teeth, grabbed the Mob Boss by the arms, and threw him head-first into the rear of the barn.

Goliath slammed against a refrigerator unit and landed in a heap. He grimaced, but nothing appeared broken. His hard head was good for something.

The Mob Boss finally decided he had enough. His crew hadn't come to back him up or try to shoot the creature. They were either too injured or had retreated. Maybe dead.

The Hulk smashed through the opposite barn wall, confronting Goliath again with a loud, thunderous roar. If the barn hadn't been secured and repaired in the recent year, Goliath knew the Hulk would've literally brought it down with one of his bellows alone.

Goliath was far from a coward, he'd once killed a police chief in cold blood after he'd crossed him one too many times. But he wasn't prepared to face monsters right now. Goliath fled. Knowing what dwelled here, he would return in full force and better-prepared with a solid plan.

As he ran, the Hulk picked up a sack of potatoes and threw it, hitting Goliath in the middle of his back. Goliath staggered and slightly limped, but he kept on running. The Hulk released one final, triumphant roar that established total dominion over the farm, at least for now.

The giant, bull-like hog that had menaced David the other day, happened to strut by. He took one look at the Hulk just as he roared. The pig nearly flipped over his own legs as he shrank back with a frightened squeal scurried away from the farm into the dense woods beyond.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sarah recovered from getting clobbered and rubbed her head as she assessed the area. All had grown quiet, and the cars were gone. She transformed back into a human and went inside to grab a change of clothes.

"What the hell is going on out there?" James demanded, clutching his broken arm.

"A bunch of men attacked. Some guard you are, you didn't even come out and help me," she said hurriedly as she finished zipping up the pair of jeans she'd jumped into.

James looked down sullen. "I think you're more than capable of handling yourself now, Sarah. I was tuckered out, and I had my headphones on. You know me, I can sleep through a tornado."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I think you did once, and dad carried you into the shelter. Look, I gotta find David, I'll be right back."

She was out the door before James could open his mouth. It didn't take her long to spot the hulking green creature even without her sensitive nose or ears. Despite the darkness, he was easy to see in the middle of the farm.

Taking a deep breath, she boldly walked up to him. "David, come on. Let's go inside."

It took a little bit of coaxing, the Hulk resisted, sensing a strange animalistic aura about her. Still, she got him to follow her by placing a gentle hand on his arm and urging him to come along. Soon as they were inside, she bade him sit in the living room.

"Come on, come on," Sarah urged gently but firmly. "In here, sit down, there ya go."

The floorboards creaked, and sawdust flew up under the Hulk's massive weight. Despite his size, he somehow managed to ease onto the couch delicately.

Sarah crouched before him to get a good look at the Hulk. This was the first time she had been able to peer at him in this form and, since he'd had _plenty_ of opportunities to look at her as a wolf, she felt she deserved this.

David was utterly unrecognizable. The Hulk's skin was the deep hue of a green bean, and his features bulged and twisted like that of a neanderthal. He couldn't manage more than a few grunts and was either unable to speak, or David simply did not remember how to in this form.

"I… I see now," Sarah said as she slowly sat on the edge of the coffee table just in front of him. She felt a mixture of emotions as he dully stared at her in response to her words. She couldn't look away from the pale emerald eyes that had replaced David's normal hazel ones.

"Can you understand me? Do you know what I'm saying?" She stared at him earnestly, but still got nothing except a dumbfounded stare with an awkward caveman grunt.

Tears stung Sarah's eyes, watching David in this condition. The Hulk sat idly, with no shirt and badly torn pants. David had contorted into a humanoid beast that made him lose all access to that brilliant, scientific mind, let alone basic social skills.

Sarah had forgotten that David had brought this upon himself with Tasha's meddling "help" under Esben's directive. Did David really deserve any of this? Did he do anything to deserve the attitude she'd given him? Did anyone deserve to have this metamorphosis inflicted upon them?

"David," she reached out and gently touched the back of his hand. "I-I'm sorry." She hoped he would understand somehow. "I'm sorry you have to go through this. I… I know what it's like… kind of."

"Um, Sarah?"

Sarah glanced up at James. He stood in the doorway and held a newspaper in his hands, and he motioned her to join him in the kitchen.

"David, please stay here, okay?" Sarah said as she rose and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Stay here, I'll be back in a minute."

Receiving only a slight grunt in response, Sarah backed away slowly, keeping her eyes on him the entire time and urging him to stay put. She finally faced her brother in the kitchen.

"Jimmy, we've gotta get out of here."

"I know, but look." James held up a copy of the _National Register. _"Right here. It says that there's a ten thousand dollar reward for information leading to the capture of the Hulk. That's David!"

Sarah's eyes widened, but as his implications hit her, she narrowed them. "So what?" She yanked the paper out of his hand. "Jimmy, you're _not_ seriously thinking about…"

James rolled his eyes and banged the counter. "Why not? If we hand him over, then we'll have enough money to buy this place back from the mob and start over. Sarah!" James grabbed her shoulders, giving her a small shake. "Think about it! We could have our home again, start out fresh, and have everything Mom and Dad would've wanted for us!"

Sarah shrugged out of his grasp and stepped back. "Do you really think they're gonna let you get the farm back, especially after what happened tonight?!" She crumpled up the newspaper and threw it into the trash container. "And you just want to _sell_ David? Is that what you'd do to me, too, if you had a chance?"

"Then we can take the money and just leave." James fished the paper out of the trash. "I just need the number."

"You can't be serious!"

"Sarah," James straightened out the paper, "don't go wolfy on me now, okay? _Think_ about it! You can't let anybody see you in this condition, and some people want you. It'd be best if I take off and lay low for a while. This could work for both of us!"

"What do _you_ know about the people who want me?" Sarah folded her arms.

James blanched, twisting the paper. "Sarah, the gang told me about you and… Esben. And the gang wants you to…"

"Want me to _what_?" Sarah pressed through clenched teeth when he trailed off.

James cleared his throat and licked his lips nervously. His every word seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth. "They want your venom to convert at least one of their men… and they might wanna use you instead of the pigs to get rid of the bodies" James held out his uninjured arm. "It's not as bad as you think, it's not every day, trust me!"

Sarah's face went from shock to outrage. She unfolded her arms slowly and clenched her fists at her sides. "Say that last part again?"

"My job here is to feed human corpses to the pigs that the mob members dump here." James tucked the paper under his broken arm and jabbed his finger in the direction of the barn. "They installed a large fridge out there to put the bodies in. I chop them up and mix them into normal slop. The fridge keeps the bodies preserved until I can get to them without freezing them or making them too tough for the pigs to eat."

"That's horrible! What kind of monster are _you?_ And you thought _I _would do this for you and the mob?"

James paled. "No! Sarah, no, I tried to talk them out of that!"

"What about my VENOM, _HUH?!_"

"Sarah," James dropped the paper and raised both his hands. "I promise, I tried to talk them out of it! But what choice did I have? This is what they did to me when I _tried_ to stand up one of them!" He indicated his arm.

Sarah snatched the paper off the floor, spread it out, and brought it down hard over his head. James looked comical with his head sticking out through a perfect, head-sized hole.

"I swear to God," she hissed, "if you even _think_ about calling that number and turning David over, I'll break your other arm myself!"

James backed up so fast he bumped into the yard door. "Would you really do that to me, Sarah? If you do, you're no better than they are."

"Don't you dare try to take a moral high ground. You're nothing but a ghoul!" Sarah blinked, then bowed her head slightly. "I'm just… angry and disappointed."

"Sarah, be reasonable. This is the best way!"

Sarah peered into the living room, seeing that the Hulk was still on the couch, as if in a daze. His eyes shifted, and the color darkened as he slowly morphed into a very different-looking man, and more like the David she knew.

James grabbed her arm and whispered into her ear. "Keep him here and keep him busy. What do you owe him, anyway? We could get the money and start fresh."

Sarah gulped. "He saved my life, James. He's only tried to help me, and I've done nothing but act like a brat around him."

"Sarah, he's just a freak! He-"

Sarah wrenched her arm away from him and slapped him across the cheek. "What am I, then? Huh?"

James looked very frustrated. "What is the matter with you, you feel sorry for him or something just because you both turn into monsters?"

"You're willing to sell your soul to the mob and feed bodies to pigs, get me to do the same, and give away my venom, and you're willing to sell David! How do I know you won't try to sell me at some point, too?"

"Fine, you want me to treat you like the freak you are?" James rushed outside and down from the porch, as though looking for something.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sarah demanded, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Here, Fido! You wanna play fetch?" James waved a stick he found under her nose and gave it a toss. "Go on, fetch!"

The next thing they knew, the siblings rolled around on the dirt in a hair-pulling wrestling match, something they hadn't done since they were twelve. Some of the pigs in a nearby pig-pen stared at them with bemused grunts and snorts.

Despite being skinny, Sarah was stronger than she looked with an unfair advantage.

David appeared out of nowhere, in-between the feuding siblings and pulled them apart. James was easily placated, especially since he still had his broken arm. He hadn't wanted to fight in the first place, and his scalp was quite sore.

Sarah was still feisty, and she ended up tackling David. He managed to push her down against the ground. "Sarah, stop it!" David snapped.

She surrendered and glared at him. David wore one of James' shirts and a fresh pair of pants.

"Okay, just don't get mad again, please?" Sarah panted. She glanced at the damage that had been done to the barn and hog pen.

David sighed. "I'll try not to." He helped her up, then turned his attention to James. He checked James' broken arm and the cast, making sure that he didn't sustain new injuries, then helped James to his feet.

"I don't remember much of what happened," David finally said after surveying all the damage on the barn. "Would one of you care to fill me in?"


	7. Chapter 7

Neither Sarah or James seemed inclined to speak much. James finally said, "I… didn't really see much of anything out here. I fell asleep with my walkman on."

Sarah looked away from the wreck and kept silent.

Sighing, David quickly realized he'd have to put the pieces together on his own. He carefully surveyed the area, taking in the damage with the same grave, sickening feeling he always felt whenever he saw the aftermath of a Hulk tantrum. He was never aware of the Hulk's actions, nor did he remember much when he transformed back.

The only thing he could do was the same thing he did every time – assess the damage, make sure no one was hurt, and help with repairs to the best of his ability… then be prepared to run. He also made a mental note to keep an eye out for Jack McGee even though the farmhouse was isolated.

The sight of a man lying motionless on the ground grabbed his attention. He moved closer, deducing from the angle of the head and the way the body was positioned that the man's neck had snapped.

David squatted next to the body but didn't touch it. For a moment, he feared the Hulk had done this. Did he pick up and throw the man? The impact would've shattered every bone in this man's neck. One thing alleviated him of guilt. He saw distinct claw marks where talons had ripped through his leather jacket and sliced down to the muscle on the man's back.

He didn't do this.

David's head snapped up as Sarah drew near. Their eyes locked momentarily. "Sarah, did you do this? What do you remember?"

Sarah sank to her knees next to the body. Time held still as her throat constricted, her breath caught in her chest, and a chill raced up down her spine. Her entire body went numb, and she couldn't move.

She was vaguely aware of David saying something. Still, she couldn't hear him over her frantic heartbeat pounding through her ears. The scent of blood and dead human flesh filled her nostrils, momentarily reminding her of what it had been like when she had sunk her teeth into a person.

No, this wasn't the person she had bitten, they were long gone, which meant he might have survived. She had bitten two people so far as a wolf – David, and that awful man who boasted about killing her mother.

David was naturally immune to werewolf venom due to his own condition. He'd also healed quickly from the injury she'd inflicted upon him.

"Sarah …let's get you inside." David started.

She finally realized that David spoke to her and tried to move her away from the grisly sight.

"My God, she's white as a sheet!" she heard James say.

Unsure what she was doing, Sarah slowly reached out to touch the blood that had pooled around the body, but David snatched her wrist.

"Don't do that."

James used his unwounded arm to grasp Sarah and pulled her a few feet back from the body. David couched in front of Sarah then, effectively blocking the full view. She couldn't look away from him, and he held her gaze.

"Sarah, it's okay," James was saying, moving to the side of her. "I'll take care of this… no one needs to know. That's what the hogs are for."

David shot him a look that could have curdled milk but otherwise said nothing on the matter.

"Sarah?" She didn't respond much, and he gave her shoulder a shake. He snapped his fingers twice in front of her face. She blinked and flinched.

She breathed deeply in and out as though she had held her breath, her nose wrinkled and her mouth twisted in disgust. She put both hands over her nose and mouth. David realized she was trying not to smell the body. She tried to deny what her senses forced her to see, or was there a slim chance that the fresh human meat in front of her smelled good?

Was the scent of human blood having some kind of effect on her? That's all she probably smelt on this farm, along with the smell of pigs. It may have awakened feral instincts in her. David didn't want to take any chances.

"James, help me get her to the house." David's voice held an edge that could have bent steel.

A few minutes later, Sarah curled up on the couch. She seemed to calm down after James brought her a glass of cold water. She gulped it down and wanted more.

David refilled her glass and noticed James heading out the back door. "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna take care of that body. We can't just have it lying around out there."

"Right," David's eyes narrowed, "you're just gonna add it to the collection and feed it to the pigs?"

James whirled around, glaring. "Look, man, before you get self-righteous again, you should think about my sister. I'm trying to help her right now. You're a doctor, she's in shock, go help her too!" With that, James walked out and slammed the door shut.

David's mouth thinned into a grim line as he stared after James, then he returned to Sarah.

The color had returned to her face, and she seemed more alert. She took a few sips of water from the second glass, then she set it aside.

"How are you feeling now?" David sat down across from her.

"I-I _killed,_ David," Sarah stated. "I'm the reason he died. H-he might have had a _family._ He has a mother like everyone else… how would I tell his mother that I killed him?"

"Sarah, please just take it easy."

"I CAN'T TAKE IT EASY." Sarah practically roared, she stood fast and knocked the coffee table over hard with the side of her hand, prompting David to rise swiftly and reach for her arm. Usually, he might have allowed her to vent her emotions, but they had the wolf to contend with. Similar to him, her outrage could be dangerous.

David observed the redness and bruising on her hand quickly vanished. "Sarah, I know. What happened was terrible, but you need to remain calm. That's very important."

Tears stung her eyes and flowed freely. She wouldn't permit an embrace, but the tension in her muscles eased when he touched her shoulders comfortingly.

"They killed my mother, David! That's why I got furious. One of them said he poisoned my mother while she was in a coma." Her voice shook, and her body trembled. "I bit him, but he got away. Others came at me, kept bashing me in the head! I didn't know I attacked someone hard enough to kill them."

"I understand that feeling. Sarah, please sit down."

"I don't want to sit down."

"Alright, but we have to talk this through."

"Where the hell is James?"

"He went out."

"Where?" Sarah moved to look out the window, but David raised a hand.

"James is busy."

"With _what?"_ Sarah persisted.

Something about David's expression gave her all the answer she needed.

"He's getting rid of the body," Sarah stated.

"Yeah."

"Oh, right! Why didn't he just ask me to eat it? Maybe I'm no better than him or anybody else now. I might as well sink lower and do the unspeakable BECAUSE I KILLED SOMEONE."

"Sarah!" David faced her. He couldn't let her continue down a path of self-pity, no matter how vulnerable she felt. She was a werewolf that could change at will, and he couldn't let her go entirely over the edge.

"Sarah, I can't say if what you did out there was deliberate. But I've read most of Esben's notes. Any other of his werewolves would've torn those men apart, but you didn't. You were angry, raging, and you were trying to protect yourself… maybe even me too."

Sarah still trembled but calmed down a little. She didn't even notice that she had sunk down on the couch, and her hand clasped around David's.

Much less muscle, without the deep green hue. David's rough hand felt solid, yet almost scrawny, in comparison to that of the Hulk, even if it was by no means a weak hand.

"What is it?" David asked, frowning slightly at the way she kept staring at his hand and arm.

Sarah released his hand, feeling self-conscious, then she looked straight into his eyes instead. Natural hazel, instead of pale emerald.

"I.. I sat right here, in front of you, while you were the green creature," she stated. "It's the first time I got a good look at him."

David averted his gaze. It wasn't a comfortable subject for him. "I see."

Sarah's first impulse was to get defensive or sneak in a dig that she had every right to stare, considering how much he'd examined her. But whatever she'd been about to say quickly died on her lips when she saw his face.

Instead, she said, "I'm sorry this happens to you. And… I'm sorry I stared at you. I was just curious."

"Yeah, I wish I had the opportunity to see the Hulk for myself, one grainy black and white news photo in the _National Register_ doesn't count," David admitted. "I've never had the chance to study the creature."

Something inside Sarah softened at his words. "I have some control, and I remember everything when I change," Sarah said, as though making some kind of comparison. "But I'm the one who killed."

David felt his throat constrict. He didn't bother to mention the one time he'd honestly believed he had seriously injured a teenager one dark night in an alley… someone who later died at the hospital. He had nearly attempted to end his life after hearing that news. In the end, he hadn't, and it was later revealed in a follow-up article by Jack McGee that the Hulk hadn't injured the young man at all. It had been caused by another teenager.

For the first time in his life since the gamma-ray overdose, David felt fortunate. So far, he had never killed. Sarah would never have that peace now. She would carry it around of her for the rest of her life.

"I'd like to be alone for a while," Sarah finally said, rising. "But… please don't leave yet, okay?" She looked like she wanted to say something else, but couldn't translate her emotions into words.

"I'll be here," David felt he could promise that for the moment.

He watched her vanish into her bedroom, feeling a minor ache on her behalf when he heard her start to cry in her room. She needed personal space to work through what just happened.

He needed to think about himself and what to do next.

David quietly went into the bathroom and retrieved a first-aid kit. He examined a small injury on his arm, and could only guess that he'd been slashed with a large blade of some kind as the Hulk. He hissed slightly as he disinfected the fibrous tissues, then determined that it wasn't severe enough to warrant a bandage. The bleeding stopped, and the skin had mostly sealed over. It was just tender and red.

As he finished dabbing the injury, he thought about the situation. He couldn't stay here long, not after all this. He felt dirty and ghoulish on this death farm as if he were an accomplice, and he hated what James involved himself with. The mobsters would eventually return for revenge, and the land belonged to them. There was enough damage to the property to require more resources and possibly several days' worth of work to repair.

There were still people out there who knew of Sarah and her werewolf condition. For the second time in his life, David felt fortuitous. One benefit of having the world think he was dead, meant he never worried about other people in the same way Sarah did.

Since Sarah's werewolfism had been the product of an organization, with as-of-yet unknown patrons, she would always be hunted. There was no telling what happened to Tasha and Hunter. More werewolves existed, and if Sarah or the others out there ever bit people…

David shuddered at the thought. At least his condition was not contagious. He had a horrible mental image of werewolfism spreading like a plague if it ever got out of hand somehow.

He couldn't put the search for his own cure aside too long, but he wondered if there was anything he could do to cure Sarah. The research papers that Tasha showed him didn't give much information on a potential cure. Was there a possibility that Tasha hadn't revealed everything? She had her own motivations, and the entire thing had been a setup by Esben. If a formula for a cure existed, Esben surely kept it under lock and key and had others responsible for it in the event of his demise.

Esben was the best Doctor to cook up a cure since he'd practically invented the Werewolf virus. But he was gone. Sarah had witnessed the brutal scene between him and Hunter and told David about it later.

David put the first-aid kit away and exited the bathroom.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was a struggle for James to get the dead body into the barn with the rest of the corpses while he had a broken arm, but he managed. He glanced at the house to make sure no one spied on him, then got into his pickup truck and drove into town. The broken arm ached, reminding James that he needed to take the pain medication prescribed. He cursed Lance for hurting him, then gritted his teeth, and kept driving.

When James arrived at the local pay-phone, he quickly stepped out and plunked a quarter in, waiting nervously for an answer.

_"National Register. How may I help you?"_

"Yes, I'd like to speak with Jack McGee," James said.

_"What's this about?"_

"The man who becomes the giant green creature. I know him."

The voice on the other end of the line sighed. _"Another Hulk sighting. Is this legit?"_

"Just tell him I have the man at my house right now. The John Doe he's looking for."

_"One moment, Sir."_

James hardly breathed while he waited.

_"Jack McGee. To whom am I speaking?"_

"My name is Jim." James decided the less he said about his identity, the better. "Is it true that you're offering a ten-thousand-dollar reward for the man who turns into a big green creature?"

_"Yes, that's right. What have ya got?"_

"Well," James gulped, "He's at my house. He's been… a guest of sorts."

_"Is that right?"_ McGee sounded tentatively excited, though still reserved. _"Can you give me a physical description?"_

"He's got short brown hair, looks in his forties… not too tall, slim…otherwise, he seems pretty average," James shrugged. "Except when he becomes the creature. He pretty tore up my barn, and ripped the pig-pen gate apart."

_"And you say he's still there?" _intensity crept into McGee's usual dour voice. _"What's his name?"_

"He says his name is David. He's with my sister right now. So are you offering a reward or not?"

_"I said yes, didn't I? But I have to meet him first. Where are you? I'll take the first flight out."_

"I'm in Utah," James said and gave the precise location and address. "I'll see if I can stall him until you get here. But only on one condition."

_"Name it, Jim."_

"You do _not_ mention me, my sister, or anything relating to us in your newspaper articles…_ever._"

_"Any particular reason?" _McGee asked curiously. _"Most people relish having a chance in the spotlight."_

"Not everyone," James replied stiffly. "Keep my sister and me out of the story, or no deal."

McGee hesitated. But relented. _"Alright, kid, you got it, I'll see you out there. This fellow tends to run. Never hangs in one place too long. Don't let him go anywhere."_

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dr. William Thomas shook his head as he wandered about the room attending to the various injuries as best and fast as he could. As usual, the Doctor just took his fee, extra this time, for all the wounded men, and he didn't ask questions.

Dr. Thomas was more than a little curious how some of _these_ injuries had been sustained since a few seemed a little unusual. It looked like a few had been attacked by a puma or a bear, while Goliath himself was bruised head to toe with a sprained arm. The Doctor's best guess was that the tall man was tossed around like a rag doll. But he knew better than to voice it.

Dr. Thomas refrained from pressing for details. If he broke the "no-questions" rule now, he wouldn't just risk losing all the money and his current position… they might decide to "off" him.

Lance's injuries, however, perplexed him. The man had a gaping bite wound on his shoulder that could only have come from incredibly large fangs. Despite disinfecting the wound, stitching, and bandaging it up securely, the injury kept bleeding. It forced the Doctor to change the gauze twice while trying to attend to other wounds.

Lance also had an unusual fever that rose steadily. Dr. Thomas wondered if the big man had some kind of viral infection. It was like his body tried to boil it out with fever or flush it out of the wound.

"Just keep this ice pack pressed against your forehead," Thomas instructed. "We need to get that fever down." Receiving only a grunt of acknowledgment from Lance, Thomas went back to the others, silently wishing that he could at least have one discreet nurse to assist him. But that wasn't part of his contract. He could only tend the gang members alone.

The last time he'd seen so many injuries was when they'd gotten into a turf war with a motorcycle gang. Then there had only been bullet wounds and injuries consistent with clubs and blunt object beatings.

_What the Hell happened this time?_ Dr. Thomas thought when he examined a deep scratch on the arm of a younger man. Did the mob tangle with a grizzly bear? There had to be something more, considering they could've just shot a wild animal dead.

For the first time, the Doctor chose to bravely ask questions. "How did all of you sustain these injuries? It looks like you had a war with a lion pride. Goliath looks like he got thrown fifty feet by a gorilla, and Lance has a strange fever and other symptoms the rest of you don't have."

Goliath raised his uninjured arm to prevent one of the men from angrily moving forward and shot a warning glance at the Doctor.

Dr. Thomas knew that look. It translated as, _"Shut up right now, you get no further warning."_

The Doctor cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, "I know it's not my place to ask questions." He lowered his head respectfully in Goliath's direction. "But some of these injuries are rather unusual, and I'm concerned that Lance may have contracted an illness. I'm only asking because I need more information to treat each of you effectively."

"I suppose I could tell you one thing, Doc," Goliath finally concurred. "After all, we do own you and your services, so you know better than to squeal." His eyes narrowed indicatively.

Dr. Thomas's expression showed that his message was well-received, and Goliath continued. "We fought with a couple of monsters located on one of our property fronts. I mean _literal monsters_, and Lance deliberately allowed himself to get infected with werewolf venom."

If this had been anyone else, Dr. Thomas would have assessed the individual and recommended a good shrink and suggest a very wild imagination. But he knew enough that these men were some of the sanest and competent people out there, despite their brutal tendencies and lifestyle. They didn't continuously succeed in their operation and schemes by slipping into flights of fancy or chasing after fables.

Goliath did not kid around; he had no sense of humor. As completely illogical as any of this seemed, he spoke the truth. Dr. Thomas decided his own ears were faulty.

"Come again, Boss? Monsters?"

"You heard me," Goliath stated simply. "Lance was bitten by a werewolf, and he's probably gonna turn into one. You and I are gonna keep an eye on him until he's fully converted and able to transform."

Dr. Thomas suddenly wasn't sure which possibility might be worse. Goliath flipping his lid (and nothing was scarier than a lunatic crime boss), or werewolves actually existing in this world.

What would happen when Lance transformed for the first time? The Doctor blanched slightly as his gaze shot in the direction of the men whose wounds he'd just bandaged. If those deep claw marks were any indication of what one was capable of.

"No offense, Goliath, but I'm not sure if I want your venom-infected man in here when he transforms."

"Are you finished treating the other guys?"

"Yes, and they heal fine, but they need to take it easy for at least two weeks."

Goliath motioned for everyone to leave except the Doctor and Lance.

"Doc, I have to do some stuff, you'll stay here and monitor Lance during the entire conversion process." Goliath's tone left no room for debate. "Understood?"

"Don't worry," Lance joked weakly, "I've had all my shots."

"Well, it's not exactly Rabies I'm worried about." Dr. Thomas murmured.

Lance sat up straighter, then his lips peeled back from his teeth, and he released a very dog-like snarl. The Doctor's eyes flew wide open, and he backed off so fast he knocked over some of his medical equipment. Lance laughed uproariously at the Doctor's expense.

Goliath snorted. "Relax, Doc, Lance is just trying to ease the tension."

Dr. Thomas was not amused. However, once his nerves settled, he managed to quip, "Well, at least he has a sense of humor and has chosen to maintain it."

"Get to work, Doc. Monitor his vitals and see if anything looks funny. I'll be back in a few minutes." Goliath headed out.

"Any idea where he's going?" Dr. Thomas still knew he was pushing it by asking yet another question. Yet there seemed to be less rigidity this evening, due to the unusual circumstances.

"Nope," Lance said. "So, what's your prognosis, Doc?"

Dr. Thomas didn't understand Lance's condition well at all. If Goliath wasn't pulling his leg, he was about to witness a medical marvel.

"I'd like to check your temperature, pulse, and heart-rate again before I say anything. I have no idea how this…venom…you contracted works or if it's even compatible with your body. I always assumed you needed a full moon to become a werewolf. I guess science outweighs superstition this time." Dr. Thomas stated, wrapping Lance's arm in the blood-pressure cuff.

Lance didn't even consider the venom not working and killing him on the spot. He didn't relish the idea of dying a slow, painful death either, but he wasn't afraid. Lance hoped to keep his mental faculties as a wolf, just like that girl did. He'd need them for when he tracked down his brother, Hunter.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

James finally returned to the house and entered without ceremony. "David, I'm glad you're still here," he said when he noticed David reading a book in the living room.

Unsure what to expect, David stood. "I'm here because Sarah asked me to stay for a little while. Last I heard you wanted me gone."

"Never mind that. I was just upset at everything. I understand now. I could really use your help right now, man. I need to get this place fixed up before the mob clobbers me for the damages."

David folded his arms, his expression grim. "James, there are people out there who are after your sister. You know this. After what happened, I'm not so sure this mob is gonna let things continue as they have with you."

"I've got a plan," James said. "I'm gonna ditch this scene, but I figure the least we could do is try to fix up the barn before we all split."

"That's… awfully conscientious of you." David's eyes narrowed.

"Look, while I was in town," James went on, "I got a bunch of lumber, paints, and other things to help patch up the barn, at least. The men at the lumberyard even helped me load it, but I can't get all that stuff out with this busted arm." He motioned toward the door. "Could you start unloading it? Maybe help me start patching up the barn? I just want to check on Sarah."

"I'll try to fix things to the best of my ability," David concurred. Nobody ever had to remind him of his responsibility whenever the Hulk caused damage. "But I need to leave soon. It may not be safe here for you or Sarah for much longer, either."

"I know. Like I said, I have a plan."

"Would you care to let me in on it?"

"By this time tomorrow, the three of us won't be here anymore," James insisted. "Please, can you just get to the barn? I want to talk to my sister… alone."

David hesitated, then gave a little nod and headed out. Every voice in head screamed at him to just take off and not look back, but he'd promised Sarah to stay just a little longer. He took a moment to survey the area to make certain no one, mobster or otherwise, was coming, then proceeded toward the battered pickup truck parked by the barn.

Once James was sure that David was busy and well out of earshot, he knocked on his sister's door. "Hey Sarah, I'm back. I gotta talk to you."

When she opened the door, he saw her tear-streaked face and the slight, red puffiness around her eyes.

"You okay?" James asked, reaching to touch her shoulder.

"What do you think?" Sarah wrenched her hand away. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't started doing these things for the gang." She turned away, self-consciously wiping the last of her tears with a tissue.

"Sarah, we can't keep dwelling on the past, not if we're gonna move forward and get out of here," James said. "Look at me. Mom and Dad are gone, the farm's been damaged a little in places-"

"It's been _desecrated, _James. And _you_ helped desecrate it!" Sarah glared at him fully, her hands splayed open at her sides as if she held back claws desperate to push their way out of her fingertips. James backed up from her.

"I came back here to try and put the past away and figure out how to move forward after seeing our family home one last time. Instead, the entire memory has been tainted by what you've done." Sarah seethed.

James held up his hand defensively. "I'm _trying to tell_ you, Sarah, we can put all of that behind us and start _fresh_. We can go somewhere, anywhere, even if we have to lose ourselves somewhere in Mexico or Canada."

"And then what?" Sarah growled. "Do you have a plan, or are we just supposed to hope we can pitch a tent in some Canadian's backyard without them noticing?"

"I'm expecting to get a windfall of cash. Then we can leave Utah and go anywhere." James shrugged.

"Where are you gonna get all this money?" Sarah's gaze darted out the window in the direction of the barn. She saw David taking some things out of the back of the pickup truck.

"Now, Sarah!" James blocked his face when she turned to him again, not liking the feral look in her eyes or slightly wolfish features that morphed on her face. "You gotta be reasonable about this. Just _listen_ to me for a sec, okay? It's him or us as far as I'm concerned! It seems like this McGee at the _National Register_ has been looking for the Hulk guy for a long time. I've seen his ad in that paper almost every day. What do you really know about David, anyway? Handing him over might be the best thing in the long run."

"Does that mean you might decide to hand me over if you ever got desperate?" Sarah snarled.

James took another step back. "Don't be stupid! I've had plenty of time to call someone about you. I only called the Register because David's a stranger and we don't need him. I've been trying to _help_ you."

"Yeah, by trying to get me to do stuff for that stupid, murderous gang! They killed our mother! Don't you even care?"

Of course, I care! How do you think I got this broken arm? I was furious. But then Lance told me the Docs were gonna take Ma off life-support soon, she wasn't making it anyway. So maybe he did us a favor. It's not like you ever came around after you got away from that evil guy! I was left here with everything! So I did things _my_ way."

Sarah held back a scathing remark.

"I didn't have any choice, okay? Sarah, work with me on this. We need to keep David busy here until McGee shows up. If David turns into the Hulk, help keep him subdued in your wolf form or something."

"I will do nothing of the sort!"

"Then, for crying out loud, the least you can do is keep your damn mouth shut. Look," James glared, "if you want no part of this, then don't get in _my_ way. I'm as good as dead now, Sarah, so don't blow this chance for me. I could take that ten grand and start a new life, safe from the mob, with or without you."

"But, it means sacrificing David."

"You want to sacrifice your own brother instead? Sarah, if you don't help me with this, you're going to kill me just as surely as you killed that man with the broken neck."

Sarah blanched and shrank back. "I didn't mean to kill him!" Fresh tears of guilt stung her eyes.

"Then, don't kill me, too." James reached for her. "Sarah, please, I'm begging you. Don't let me down, sis!"

Sarah squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, fighting back her tears. Finally, she looked at him again, "I don't think it's right to give up one life for another. We can't do this to David. He saved my life. I owe him for that."

James huffed and threw up his hands, wincing as his wounded arm protested. "Well, no matter _what_ you say, it's too late. I've already called McGee, and he's on his way."

"Then, David deserves to know." Sarah made a move to brush past her brother, but he blocked the doorway.

"You're gonna have to break every bone in my body to get to him," James snapped. "Sarah, come on! If you don't want to be in on this, just leave. I'll take the money once I get it and I'll disappear, and you never have to see me again if you don't want to. Just… _please._"

"I can't let this happen to David, James. Now _get out of my way!"_

"We could work together on this," James persisted stubbornly. "I only get the reward if David is captured. Suppose he does? I get the money, and then you use your wolfy stuff to bust him out and help him escape? I mean, those people at the _National Register_ can't exactly do anything once they've given me the money. It would be their fault if they lost him."

Sarah stared at him, feeling her blood freeze in her veins at the prospect. On some strange level, it almost sounded like the plan _might_ work. Those people certainly wouldn't suspect a werewolf to come after David later. She would have the advantage of surprise, especially if David hulked out.

But what would capture mean for David? More public humiliation from the _National_ _Register, _for one. Sarah had seen papers like that before and could only imagine how it would feel to be a favorite story in a regular series of articles. It would be a million times worse for David if his true identity was exposed to the public.

Then there was another matter.

"Jimmy, I can't risk doing this. When I gave myself over to the people who turned me into a werewolf, they hurt me to see how fast I'd heal and made me transform in a room I couldn't escape from so they could study me in both forms." She shivered at the memory, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's dehumanizing, and I wouldn't subject anyone to that. Especially not David!"

"That's why we can put a plan into effect, Sarah! If we can subdue David and get him to go along quietly, you can track down his scent, and I can try to find out where they've taken him, once I get my money."

"What makes you think you'd be privileged to that inside information?" Sarah snapped. "Trust me, when I was held at Esben's lab, I wasn't a guest at a resort! It was a top-secret hidden building that nobody knew about."

"I need _something,_ Sis," James said. "I can't stay here anymore."

"Like Grandma once said, you have to sleep in the bed you made," Sarah replied.

"Then maybe you can help me by giving me something else if you won't help me with David."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

David was partially finished patching up the biggest hole on the barn when he noticed Sarah stamping toward him. She looked very agitated.

"David, I gotta talk to you," she said, her voice trembled with emotion.

"What is it?" David set aside the hammer, giving her his full attention. "Sarah, what's wrong?"

Sarah cleared her throat and licked her lips, trying to regain some moisture. "David, James wants me to bite him and pass on the venom. He thinks he'll be safe from the mob if I turn him into a werewolf, too."

David felt shocked and mildly outraged. "Absolutely not! Sarah, you can't do that. It's too dangerous for him and everyone else around here. He may not have the same reaction as you."

"I-I know," Sarah said, "but David… t-there's something else."

"Yes?"

"James called Jack McGee. He's coming."

David stiffened. "Sarah, I have to leave _now_. But you mustn't put any venom into James. I read the notes, it's too unstable for anyone else."

Sarah grabbed onto his wrist. "David, I don't know what to do anymore! The mob will be back, McGee's flying out here, and James is so stupid!"

"Sarah, Do you want to come with me, or do you want to stay here?" The urgency in David's voice forced her to calm down.

She cast a glance at the house, then looked back at David. "I never should've come. David, this place has too much blood on it, and my own brother tried to get me to do bad things. I even killed someone here. Please," she begged, "can we just go away? I-I promise I'll try not to be such a brat. Please… let's just go."

David's mouth tightened into a grimace. "Come on, I need to get my things," he told her. "You should pack yours. Only the essentials."


	8. Chapter 8

David wasted no time grabbing his brown duffle bag and making sure he'd packed all his meager belongings. He barely glanced at Sarah, who moved just as quickly to pack her knapsack. Once they finished, David glanced at his shirt, remembering that he had borrowed it. He took out his wallet and left a bill on the dresser in James' room.

"Come on, Sarah," David slung the bag over his shoulder, "we'll exit through the front gate and cut across the field behind the property."

The sound of a cocked shotgun stopped them in their tracks. David raised his hands and slowly turned to see James holding a large weapon pointed directly at him.

"James! What the hell are you doing?" Sarah shouted.

James' gaze darted between her and David. "I can't let either of you go, not until I get something. You two owe me that much."

"We don't owe you _anything,_ you dolt!" Sarah took a step toward him. "It's _because_ of you that we have to leave!"

James' mouth tightened. "Everything would've been fine if you two hadn't come here. The way I see it, if I can hand David over to the _National Register_ or get some of your venom, Sis, I'll be home free."

"James, don't do this. I'll get out of your life, we're about to leave anyway. Don't hurt your sister this way." David began calmly, but his eyes betrayed fear for Sarah as well as himself.

James kept the gun trained at David. "I wasn't planning to hurt Sarah. But I wonder if the Hulk can survive a headshot?"

Sarah snarled and planted herself in front of David, directly in the line of fire.

"Sarah, get out of my way!" James snapped.

"Don't be an idiot, James!" Sarah snapped back.

"Stop calling me that! You're not that bright yourself! I know exactly what I'm doing!"

"Sarah, you don't have to do this," David told her quietly. She shot a stubborn look at him. David's voice hardened, and he addressed James directly. "James, the venom is too volatile and unpredictable. There's no guarantee that it'll react the same with your DNA. It can turn you into a vicious creature or kill you. Maybe both."

"Sarah and I are a family. There's a good chance it'll be the same, that's what the venom's for, isn't it? They wanted an army of wolves? Maybe they'll get 'em." James grinned snidely.

"You can't know that," David insisted. According to the notes he'd read, Esben had felt there _was _a higher probability that Sarah's venom could pass on and leave the human elements intact. That was one reason they wanted to recapture her. There had been vague references of plans to attain samples of her DNA and clone her. That indicated that the scientists couldn't put much faith in the unpredictable effects of the venom passed through wolf bites.

"If I give you venom," Sarah growled through clenched teeth, "will you leave David alone?"

"Sarah, _no_. With his temperament, he's liable to go on a werewolf rampage." David insisted.

"After everything that he's done, maybe it'll be a good punishment for him," Sarah said. "He wants it so bad, let him live with the consequences, and maybe he'll get captured and dissected. He'd deserve it."

James blanched, while David gave Sarah a withering look.

"Sarah, you can't risk spreading the venom." David tried to reason with her. "Could you live with yourself if you inflicted werewolfism on James, knowing what it could do to him? That more people will die?"

Sarah closed her eyes as his message went through. "No, I don't want to bite anyone else." She and David shared a brief, meaningful look. Neither of them had forgotten the time when she'd bitten David. The reality that David was immune still didn't make her actions better, it would be far worse if she also attacked her brother in wolf form.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" James demanded. He moved a few inches left, trying to aim his weapon at David without fear of hitting his sister. "I need the money I'd get for turning you in, man, if my sister won't make me into a werewolf."

"James," David said, "you've made a lot of bad choices, and you have done terrible things here. Please don't make it worse."

"I don't have a choice anymore. I'm in too deep, and I'm a dead duck now. What does it matter?"

"Think of your sister," David said. "I know you still care about her. If you let us go, I'll do my best to continue helping her, as I have agreed to do. I can't do that if you turn me in."

James' lower lip trembled. He felt conflicted. He had a prize right in front of him, and he was being asked to just let it go.

"Jimmy," Sarah finally spoke mildly but kept a bestial stance. "We've both been idiots. When Dad died, and Mom went into a coma, we both went down separate, wrong paths… and we've been acting like spoiled brats ever since. We're adults now and have to stop looking for quick-fixes or for somebody else to take care of us."

The long stretch of silence unnerved David. "Well, James, what are you gonna do?" He finally prompted.

"Just… get the hell out of here." James lowered the gun.

Sarah took a tentative step toward him. She blinked back tears, "Jimmy, I…"

"Just _GO_!" He yelled, pointing out the door.

David took the cue and hurried past him without another word. Sarah stared at her brother with a mixture of anger, pity, and sadness, then hoisted her knapsack and followed David out the front door.

"Come on, we've got to move." David urged her to quicken the pace.

They had just barely made it to the front gate when a loud shot fired, sending birds scattering from a nearby tree. They froze in their tracks, looking sharply back at the house.

No one was outside, and there were no signs of movement or cars.

"Oh God… _JAMES!_"

Sarah made a mad dash to the house, with David following close behind. She burst through the foyer and skidded inside, gasping with horror when she saw James lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

"David, _DO SOMETHING!_" Sarah screeched.

David quickly crouched over James' fallen body but saw even before he checked his vitals that the young man was gone. James had put the nozzle in his mouth and fired. David hung his head saddened. It was a genuinely grisly scene – blood and gore had splattered everywhere.

Making sure he didn't disturb the death scene, David rose, and Sarah growled at him. "You're giving up!" she snapped. "Don't do that, try to help him! David, he's the _only _family I have left!"

"Sarah." David moved in front of the body, touching her arms comfortingly to prevent her from growing hysterical. "There is nothing I can do. He's dead. I'm so sorry. James clearly went through so much conflict and depression."

Sarah shivered and glared at his face, but quickly dissolved into grief while her body drooped.

Remembering the effect that fresh blood could have on her senses, David tried to guide her away from the body. He didn't want her seeing her brother like this any more than she had to. Sarah crossed her arms and turned her back to him. David sighed. He lifted a quilt off the couch and gently covered James' body.

"Please come, Sarah. There is nothing more we can do here. We need to go, or else we'll never make it. Someone was bound to have heard that shot."

She hesitated for a long moment, then tore away from him and stormed off…but not off of the property.

"Sarah!" David went after her. "Where are you going?"

Sarah didn't respond, and she walked at a rapid pace for the barn. David followed her inside and watched her while she rummaged around.

"What are you doing? We have to get away from here and call an ambulance for James."

Sarah ignored him until she found what she was looking for. David's forehead crinkled with concern when he saw her pick up a large gallon of gasoline intended for the backup generator.

David blocked her path, but she pushed ahead decisively. "This place needs to _burn, _David. And I need to be the one to do it. There's nobody left, and I won't let my family house or barn get used like this anymore. It's the only way I can make my home clean again."

David regarded her with a slew of thoughts. If they left the house like this, the police would come eventually and take fingerprints. They would somehow trace them back to David Banner, the Physicist who was supposed to have died 5 years earlier. McGee would pick up the blotter that he was still alive and tie him to John Doe and the Hulk.

"David, please," Sarah insisted, "you can either help me or not, but just don't get in my way."

David sighed heavily. He wanted to get away from this nightmare too. This was Sarah's home and her responsibility. He nodded.

"Fine, Sarah. I can't stop you. And I won't try. Do what you have to do."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dr. Thomas didn't sleep a wink. To say he kept an eye on Lance was an understatement. He watched the brutish man's every breath. He noted each sound he made, wondering if and when this werewolf transformation would rear itself.

The venom appeared to quickly flow through Lance's circulatory system and convert his tissues. There was only so much Dr. Thomas could determine without a full staff and additional medical equipment.

The entire conversion process looked painful. Lance's fever spiked to abnormal temperatures followed by spells of unconsciousness and delirium, where he shouted about Hunters. Upon waking, he puked until there was nothing left but bile and blood spewing from him.

Dr. Thomas could only keep Lance cool with ice, and he inserted an IV into his arm to help prevent dehydration. The Doctor was cautioned not to give him any medications, even Lance he begged, so as not to interfere with the conversion process. Twice during the night, Lance nearly went into cardiac arrest. Still, the episodes passed almost as quickly as it had begun.

The Doctor could only marvel at how Lance's entire biological system chaotically rewrote itself, forcing the man into a variety of spasmodic fits. Dr. Thomas didn't want to believe it, but Lance's muscles seemed to harden and expand, eating away the excess fat. His hair thickened, and his teeth sharpened. There were moments where his face deformed with dog-like features. Dr. Thomas was terrified, but he couldn't leave the patient.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

David helped Sarah douse the house in gasoline and move the heavy, flammable furniture around James' corpse for quicker combustion. He hoped it would give her a sense of peace and closure, even if the current events that had led to this were terrible beyond measure.

Once the house was prepared, Sarah turned into a wolf and slashed the throats of the remaining pigs. David could only avert his gaze, trying to imagine happier memories and ignore the strangled gargles and death squeals. He didn't want to leave Sarah entirely alone, but that didn't mean he had to watch or like what she was doing. The pigs had a taste for human flesh, and Sarah felt no chances should be taken. At least she was quick and humane about it. That couldn't be said for any other werewolf David had read or seen in movies and more recently, with his own eyes.

Sarah moved the pig corpses into the barn, where she had already laid out the other human cadavers. Perhaps there was a hint of irony to be found in the bodies of the pigs lying amidst them now.

No longer requiring her wolf strength or talons, Sarah changed back into her human body. She and David finished dousing a few critical areas around the outside of the house and barn until the gasoline containers were empty.

Sarah set the barn aflame, staring dully as it quickly engulfed the dried out wood and churned heavy smoke. She approached the front of the house, her countenance a mixed bag of emotions. David said nothing.

Sarah briefly remembered her childhood memories when life was normal, and her family was together. Her thoughts darkened with pain from losing their home and land, along with her parents, and then James abandoning her. She felt fury and shock after returning to see how much James defiled it. He'd also shared happy memories of the farm, and now he lay dead just inside.

Sarah slowly tried to open the door again, but David stopped her. "Sarah, let him be. He's gone now. Just try to remember James as he once was, before all this trauma."

Sarah's hand dropped to her side. She robotically lit a fresh match and tossed it.

When she didn't move, David pulled her back quickly from the flames as they licked just near her feet. There may have been a small part of her that almost wanted to burn along with everything else.

It wasn't long before the house joined the barn in a swirling inferno. David could sense how important this was to her, so he exited the property gate alone and silently waited. It was a little satisfying to know that this place was being cleansed and redeemed on some level, in the best way it could be.

"Sarah," he called, holding out her knapsack. "We really need to move on."

She nodded and turned her back on the blaze for the last time. With her head held high, she walked away with David.

0o0o0o00o0o0o0

Jack McGee finally arrived at James' farmhouse, and it was not what he'd expected. He didn't anticipate fire trucks, cops, ambulances surrounding two burned-out wrecks. Only a few hog pens remained unscorched. The house was nothing but a smoldering skeleton of charred wood. He saw the EMTs lifting body bags into the ambulance, and his blood nearly ran cold. John Doe couldn't be dead?

McGee peppered an onlooker with questions, learning who'd lived on the property and what it was used for. The man discreetly mentioned town rumors that shady dealings went down on the farm. Pigs were often heard squealing viciously into the night, and the owner might've been a serial killer. McGee took that with a grain of salt, but seeing one body bag after another pulled out of the barn gave him pause. What if John Doe had come across a situation he couldn't escape even with his Hulk transformation? The thought saddened him somehow.

McGee also knew John Doe was extremely resourceful. There was no chance in hell that John was the culprit or had anything to do with the bodies. That man had risked his life a few times to rescue him through a burning forest, and McGee was forever grateful.

McGee approached an idle fireman and held up his press badge. "I'm Jack McGee from the _National Register._ I got a call to meet a guy here today. Did you see anyone else on the property? A man in his forties, average height, brown hair?"

The fireman shook his head. "One of the neighbors called in the fire when they saw smoke. By the time we got here, the house and barn were already gone, but we put the fire out. Now we're finding all these remains."

"Is this arson? Had to be since two different structures were set on fire. There wasn't any wind to last night to blow the flames onto the barn, and the grass isn't even scorched between them."

"Good eye, Mr. McGee. I don't know much yet. Judging from the half-burned gas containers we found outside the barn and house, it's clear this was arson. We don't know if those bodies were already dead or if they burned alive. We need a full investigation and autopsies."

McGee chewed on the information. "How many bodies were in the fire? Men, women, kids?"

"We've found the charred remains of one body inside the house along with what appeared to be a shotgun," the firefighter answered. "He might've caused this then offed himself. We're still trying to figure the barn out. There were several people in there, no kids, hard to tell any females though. Doesn't seem like it. And they had a large walk-in freezer too. It managed to partially survive, so the cops are grabbing prints. Oh, and get this, we found at least a dozen burned up pigs.

McGee crossed his arms and shook his head. "No wonder it smells like fried bacon around here. Whoever lit this place up didn't want evidence left behind. Have you seen anyone here who answers to the name of Jim?" McGee pressed.

"No one alive, and we combed the entire area. We're checking with the neighboring farms and towns to see if anyone came through, and we called the local hospitals. Nothing yet." The fireman shrugged.

That meant either McGee's informant had fled the scene or perished in the fire. Was he the corpse with the shotgun? The man was nervous, for some reason he didn't want publicity. McGee poked around and kicked at burnt timbers when he remembered.

_"Jim has a sister! He was adamant about her privacy. So, where is she?" _He thought. _"Could she have done all this?"_

Two whole buildings with people and animals inside…why didn't they try to escape? Why weren't there any survivors or injured people outside?

Deducing that his promise to Jim had been rendered null and void, McGee decided to pursue the story, and give his boss something interesting for the _Register _to print. The boss would especially love the arson and Serial Killer angle. Those types of horror stories had the country gripped in fear for the last decade. He'd have to stay a few days to cover all the bases and wait for coroner and police reports. McGee wanted as much information as possible. He hoped it would lead to more clues about John Doe.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Where are we going?"

This time, Sarah was actually the one to break the gloomy silence that hung over them ever since she and David left the farm.

For a moment, David just stared moodily down the road, as though he was trying to finalize a private, internal debate. He perked up with a decision. "We're going to Trevorton, Colorado."

"Why there? To the mountains?" Sarah seemed to pick up on the vibe that the place was important to him.

"We're going to _my_ family farm. To see my sister, Helen."

David didn't tell Sarah that these events stirred up familial emotions in him. Despite how selfish it was on his part, he desired to see his younger sister and father again. The only family he had left in the world.

After everything that he and Sarah had been through, he felt they both needed a trustworthy place they could rest and be well-received. He usually wouldn't involve his family any more than he already had that one time.

"Your sister?" Sarah blinked. "Does she… does she know about the Hulk?"

"Yes, both she and my Dad understand. They're not afraid." David said.

Sarah was uncertain how she felt about intruding on someone she didn't even know. But she'd dragged David to her family home despite his discomfort, and had already agreed to follow David's lead. It only seemed right. No one hunting after a dead man. She sincerely hoped that neither Esben or Tasha had told anyone David Banner was alive. What if they'd already gotten to David's family, but he didn't know it? Sarah didn't want to ruin David's plans or depress him any more than he was.

"Okay, David. Colorado it is," she smiled and left it at that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Dr. Thomas' head thunked the table, and he woke up quickly from his nap. He'd been up nearly forty-eight hours watching over Lance and had tried to rest and eat whenever the big man was asleep. Lance had experienced a convulsion that led to a seizure. Dr. Thomas rose to check on him and was aghast at the grotesque feral features that forced their way through Lance's body. The Doctor held back a yell and stumbled backward.

Lance slowly turned his head and smiled, baring fangs. He spoke in deep, guttural tones about disliking the Doctor's face, scent, and particularly his close proximity. He snapped his immense arms out the leather straps on the hospital bed. The Doctor scrambled for the door.

Lance jumped in front of him and lashed out with a hand that was curved like a claw, knocking Dr. Thomas off-balance. Lance snarled and gripped the Doctor's throat in a vise, more intense and strong than he'd ever felt. Within seconds, Dr. Thomas' throat was crushed, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Goliath finally returned with urgent news but stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. "Lance, what the _hell_ have you done!"

Goliath stepped closer, but Lance's monstrous vibes kept him at a distance. The transformation was already underway, and he looked inhuman while hunched over the Doctor's limp body. Lance's eyes glowed from brown to red. When he saw his Goliath, his eyes flickered with recognizance and humanity, then quickly faded into a gaze of feral instinct.

Lance stayed still, and Goliath backed out of the room and slammed the door shut. He jammed a chair underneath the doorknob. Judging from the snarls and wet, tearing flesh he heard within, he knew he'd made the right call.

Goliath had several problems to contend with. The hog farm had been burned to the ground with no sign of James or anyone else. His gang was getting all the details. He'd needed to discuss this with Lance if the man had been in any condition to talk.

And now they were out one doctor.

Goliath wasn't ready to rule out hope yet. Lance's state could still be salvageable, even if his aggressive tendencies amplified into an untamed nature sometimes. Goliath didn't care if Lance looked like an extra from _The Howling_, he just needed the big oaf in his right mind. The process of having venom meld with the body and alter the DNA couldn't be an easy or quick experience.

Goliath double-checked to make sure the door would hold. As a precaution, he ran to his car to get his shotgun. Goliath decided there was at least one thing to could do while waiting. He would call the Doctor's wife and tell her the unfortunate news.

After all, he wasn't a monster.

_A/N: I would once again like to thank MissBrooklyn80 of A03 (known as VoyagerG here on fanfiction) for editing/betaing, and for helping me cook up some ideas for this story. I would also like to thank BlackAngel001 again for helping me come up with the original idea for this story involving the pigs and mobsters._

_Please note: There will be more adventures to come, but we are gonna take a brief hiatus from writing due to how busy life has gotten. But we are also gonna take some time to look over the first story and do a little editing and revamping. For the time-being, we will leave that story alone until we're finished fixing it up a bit, then it will simply replace the first story as it is. After that, work on the ongoing series will continue. Thank you for reading and thank you for your time. :)_


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